This Isn't Everything You Are
by DistanceMaster
Summary: Draco is a Veela who came into his inheritance early, but something has been blocking him from finding his mate. After a second summer of searching, Draco returned to Hogwarts for his sixth year to find that his greatest rival has changed, although no one else seems to notice. As he digs into the life of the Boy Who Lived, what will he discover? DMxHP.
1. Prologue: Early July Nights

Draco is a Veela who came into his inheritance early, but something has been blocking him from finding his mate. After a second summer of searching, Draco returned to Hogwarts for his sixth year to find that his greatest rival has changed, although no one else seems to notice. As he digs into the life of the Boy Who Lived, what will he discover? DMxHP. Good!Dudley. Manipulative!Evil!Dumbledore. Rape. Abuse. Ron bashing.

A/N: VERY IMPORTANT! The prologue occurs in the summer between fourth and fifth year, but the remainder of the story is during their sixth year.

Prologue

Draco sat in the middle of his large bed, the thick comforter piled around him like a nest. A dull ache filled his body, but he ignored it. The muscles that had been cramping so painfully not a few hours earlier were not as much of a concern to him anymore. There was something else that was far more wrong.

He glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and frowned. It was five in the morning, five hours since the fifteenth anniversary of his birthday had begun. The giant wings on his back fluttered in annoyance and sadness at the thought. His heart ached. He was supposed to have felt something by now, but there was nothing.

There was a knock at the door and Draco's head whipped towards it. His father slipped into the room, his white blond hair shifting slightly over his black robes. Draco covered his face with his hands and fell back onto the bed, groaning.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Lucius studied his son. His shirt was in tatters, hanging loosely from his frame like rags. Two wings, as white as his hair, were spread out. They stretched out to almost ten feet and glistened faintly in the light that sprung from the burning fireplace. His long strands of hair were wild and loose, resting softly on pillow under his head.

"Nothing still?" Lucius asked.

"No," Draco moaned, dropping his hands to his sides.

Lucius shook his head, astounded.

"The Malfoys have always come into their inheritance early, but I've never heard of this happening before," he murmured.

"A Veela whose mate's identity is complete blocked from him?" Draco hissed in anger.

"Unfortunately," Lucius replied.

Sitting up, Draco looked over at his father, eyes full of sadness. Lucius met his gaze, replying with a loving look. Reaching out, the older Malfoy brushed the wild blond hair as he attempted to tame it for a moment. When it refused to cooperate, he turned so he faced Draco.

"The future that we once thought was clear is no longer such. I don't know what this will do to you, Draco, but you'll have to endure it. For most of our kind, to be away from our mates for long is a painful experience," he murmured.

"But I don't have the ability to find my mate like all of the other Veela!" Draco shouted.

"No, you don't and we need to figure out why. We have the two months until school begins to search, but, no matter what your reservations are, you are going to go when that time ends. I won't have you falling behind. Meanwhile, I will continue to search for answers," Lucius said.

"What if I never find my mate? Will I have to live for the rest of my without my mate like you?" Draco asked sadly.

"We'll just have to take it all as it comes, but what do I always say?"

"With hard work, a Malfoy will always get what they want."

* * *

The night outside was a tempest, fierce winds rattling the windows on the other side of the metal bars. Rain fell in heavy sheets, soaking the world so that it appeared blurry and faint to his eyes. Lightning flashed and crackled, illuminating his tiny bedroom every now and then. When the thunder followed not long after, the roaring it brought was welcome. It distracted him from the pain that coursed through his entire body as it tried to form the beat and rhythm of a soothing lullaby.

Sleep, however, eluded him completely. All he could do was lie on his bed, his body curled up into a ball as he watched the storm rage outside. His fingers dug into the scratchy sheets beneath him as he silently cried. The tears ran horizontally down his face, completely ignored. His mouth and chin were contorted into the tight face of sadness and his body shook with sobs, but he made not one sound. If anyone heard, the punishment that followed would only get worse.

Blood from a single open cut that ran along the entire length of his right jaw pooled somewhat on the plateau of his cheek. More of it soaked the sheets, but, just like his tears, he ignored it. He was too used to it being there to really notice.

His room was dark and dirty, every surface except for the bed covered in dust. The only breaks in the field of white particles were the small footprints that had created a trail from the bedroom door to the bed. In one corner, a white owl sat preening her still wet feathers. Her gold beak made quick work on any dirt that had gotten stuck between them during her long flight. The letter she had delivered lay on the floor next to the bed, abandoned, its contents haunting the boy's mind.

Slowly and quietly, the bedroom door creaked open and a teenage boy quickly stepped inside. He closed the door behind him, a steaming bowl of water in one hand. Making his way over to the bed, he set the bowl on the small stool that served as the bedside table. The blue eyes of the teenager moved over the picture that sat in the broken frame on the stool, saddening as they gazed at the three people in it.

Turning his attention to the much smaller figure on the bed, the teenager reached into the bowl and retrieved a soaked cloth. He wringed it out and carefully started to clean the wounds on the thin shoulders. The smaller teenager didn't even move as he was silently tended to, his mind shattered.

When he was finished with the back, the larger boy leaned over his cousin and started to wipe away the blood from his cheek. This finally garnered the smaller teenager's attention as he turned his dull gaze up to the figure over him. He tried to crack a smile, but it quickly faltered, chin quivering. A giant hand stroked his black hair and the overly thin boy closed his eyes, fighting back more tears. Curling up as tightly as possible, he clenched the hand that was offered to him, holding on like it was the last thing that connected him to life.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Dudley murmured as he gazed down at his broken cousin. "I'm so sorry."

"He didn't believe me. He said that I was just being paranoid and that I was safe here," the black-haired teen murmured, his voice almost nonexistent.

"Even if he had believed you, they couldn't have done anything. He would have already gotten you before they arrived," Dudley whispered back.

"That isn't the worst part. At least he wouldn't have trusted me enough to believe me," was Harry's quiet answer.

"May I read it?" Dudley asked.

Harry nodded and relinquished the hand so Dudley could get up and walk around the bed to where the letter lay. Dudley Dursley had once been a hulk of a boy, always the largest in his class. Now though, he had lost weight and his skin sagged in places. He'd even built up some muscle from the intense workouts that he'd assigned himself.

Easily leaning down, a feat that he couldn't have done even three months earlier, Dudley picked up the letter and unfolded it. As he scanned the contents, his sadness was replaced by rage, but he fought it down for his cousin's sake. Finished, he looked down at his broken cousin and sighed, letting it drop back onto the floor.

It read:

Dear Harry,

I do not see why you believe these delusions. I admit that your aunt and uncle aren't the kindest people, but they would never hurt you. Put these fears aside and look at the facts. You've lived with them for almost fourteen years and they've never laid a finger on you. Why would they now? You're perfectly safe there.

As such, I cannot remove you from the Dursley's home as you requested. You will remain there for the remainder of the summer until the school term starts. Have fun and enjoy the freedom that summer brings.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore


	2. Chapter 1: The Train

A/N: _Italics_= past/memory. 'Words'=thoughts

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the plot.

Chapter 1

A year later…

As the train chugged along, Draco couldn't help, but fidget with excitement, as they got closer to the fabled castle of Hogwarts. His heart was swelling with nervousness, making his stomach clench. For the past month, he'd been too anxious to sit still for long, the feelings overriding his inbred Malfoy coolness.

"Are you okay, Draco?" Blaise asked, looking up from the collection of sweets he had in his lap.

"I'm just excited is all," Draco replied as he smiled.

His eyes were glued on the countryside outside the window, his entire body and soul focused on it. He was waiting for that castle to come into view, signaling the start of a new step in Draco's life.

"Why?" Pansy Parkinson asked from her seat next to Blaise.

"Something good happened this summer," Draco murmured.

The eyes of his two closest friends widened and they both smiled.

"You felt your mate?" Blaise asked, holding back a gasp.

"Really? Who is it?" Pansy almost shouted.

"I don't know yet," Draco said.

"You don't know?" Pansy huffed in annoyance. "Hasn't this been going on for over a year now? I think it's about time your mate showed itself."

"You're just jealous, Pans," Blaise laughed.

The female Slytherin crossed her arms over her chest and growled at her friend. "I am very happy with my boyfriend, thank you very much."

"Your secret boyfriend that you can't even tell your parents about. Even if Draco's mate turned out to be one of those Weasleys, his family would have to accept him or her as one of their own," Blaise replied teasingly.

Draco ignored his two friends as Pansy hit Blaise over the head with her hand and chased him out into the corridor. As they laughed and played, the blond's mind drifted back to that special day just over a month earlier.

_The library of the Malfoy estate was quiet as its three inhabitants read in silence. Draco was sitting at the long table at the center of the room, a stack of books nearly a foot and a half tall sitting next to him on the tabletop. Lucius was not far away, sitting in an armchair with one of his legs crossed majestically over the other. The pages of the thick tome he was reading crackled every time he turned to the next one. Next to him, in another armchair, Severus Snape was perusing an ancient scroll._

_Draco's sixteenth birthday had passed a few weeks earlier unceremoniously. Lucius had attempted to get his dejected son to celebrate it, but the younger Malfoy refused, spending the entire day going through a new set of books on curses in case it held the answer to his questions. Even when his godfather had arrived for his annual month-long visit a few days later, the teenager refrained from leaving his work. Eventually, the two men had joined him._

_Glancing up at the clock, Draco scowled. It was the 30__th__ of July, but in a few more minutes, it would be the final day of the wretched month. Another day had passed without him finding his mate or anything on why he was unable to feel them at all as other Veela can._

_Setting his book aside, Draco stretched and groaned, his muscles aching from sitting for so long. He pushed his chair away from the table and stood. Neither Lucius nor Severus looked up as Draco walked away from the clearing at the center of the forest of bookcases. Strolling down one of the aisles, Draco sighed and ran his hands along the spines of the books on one of the shelves._

_He reached the end of the row and turned to move onto the next one. The clock rang midnight, signaling the change of the numbers that humans use to explain time and dates. A shiver ran through Draco and he fell to his knees. He gripped his stomach, doubling over as pain ripped through him._

"_Draco?" Lucius called. "Are you okay?"_

_The younger Malfoy opened his mouth in an attempt in reply, but all that came out was a groan. Lucius and Severus looked at each other before putting their books aside. Standing, they made their way over to where they heard the noise come from and, spotting Draco on the floor, they rushed over to him._

"_What happened?" Lucius asked frantically._

_Draco moaned in reply and collapsed onto his side, still holding his stomach. Pulling his hands away, Severus lifted up the teen's shirt and inhaled sharply. Bruises, yellow, purple, and some even colored black, littered the skin, pulsing as they seemed to flash like streetlights, there one moment, but not the next._

"_What in the name of Merlin?" Lucius murmured, kneeling down next to the Potions Master._

"_Mate, hurting," Draco groaned, closing his eyes as the pain started to ebb._

_Severus and Lucius watched as the bruises slowly disappeared, shrinking back into Draco's skin. The blond teenager panted heavily as he looked up at his father and godfather._

"_You felt your mate?" Lucius asked excitedly._

_Draco nodded sadly._

"_But not anymore," he said._

"_Did you see them at all? Do you know where they are?" the older Malfoy asked._

"_No. All I felt was the pain and fear," Draco murmured as he sat up. "Someone is hurting them."_

"_You're sure you didn't get anything other than that?" Severus asked._

_The blond teenager shook his head. His chest ached from the thought of someone hurting his mate while he wasn't able to be there to protect them. It brought anger to him, of course, but his sadness prevailed._

"_Why would the connection be made now? It's been over a year since Draco gained his inheritance. Why for such a short amount of time? Why my son?" Lucius shouted angrily._

"_Father, calm down," Draco said. "Maybe whatever is blocking me from them is weakening."_

"_It doesn't change the fact that something is obstructing you at all, something that shouldn't be there!" Lucius hissed._

_Severus, never one for physical contact of any kind, laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, shaking it lightly. He gave Draco a comforting look._

"_Draco is right, Lucius. This may be a good sign," he said quietly._

_Lucius grumbled something under his breath, but nodded, agreeing with his son and best friend. He sat down next to his son, leaning back against one of the bookcases._

"_Hopefully you're right. This past year has been absolute hell," Lucius sighed as he rubbed his eyes._

_His son silently agreed, looking down at his hands. The loneliness that he had suffered at not being able to find his mate had affected his father as well. _

_Contrary to popular belief, Lucius Malfoy was actually a kind and gentle man. It had been his wife, Narcissa, who'd been the dominating evil within the Malfoy family. She had been the one to force her husband to join the Death Eaters and it was her hatred for half-breeds and muggle borns that landed the family in much of the world's bad graces._

_Lucius had been tortured by his actions for years, but it wasn't until after the Chamber of Secrets incident in Draco's second year at Hogwarts that Lucius was able to break free from her. They had remained married, but Narcissa had been removed completely from the Malfoy estate. Draco, however, didn't miss her a bit. She'd never really paid attention to him as a child, giving him to nurses and tutors to be raised instead. He didn't even know where she lived and he really didn't care._

"_This has been hard on all of us," Draco said, "But it'll end soon. I'm sure of it."_

"_It's best to be optimistic now," Severus added. "This is the first breakthrough we've had."_

_And optimistic Draco had been. In the month that followed, he, his father, and his godfather had searched tirelessly for an answer, and, just like the entire year before, they found nothing. Their attitudes, however, had changed. They all felt like there really was a chance that Draco, the first Veela in the Malfoy family in two generations, could find his destined mate. The research didn't seem like work anymore. It was a battle to be won, a conquest to be made._

"I will find you," Draco whispered to the air as he laid his forehead against the glass of the window.

Harry was alone. He'd purposefully gotten to the station early, not at all ready to face his friends or anyone he knew for that matter. After picking a compartment towards the front of the train, he'd taken a small blanket out of the small trunk he'd brought on with him. Throwing it over his head, he'd curled up on the seat and hid in the darkness. He didn't move, not even after the train had started to move.

The night before, he'd received a worse beating than usual. His uncle belt buckle had left bruises and scratches all over his body. A giant bruise covered the right side of his face from where he'd been punched and his left ankle was badly sprained. He guessed that he'd broken at least one rib and had probably bruised the rest. Then there was the pain in his hips, back, and ass that reduced him to limping everywhere. He tried to hide it as best as he could, but while he could cover the other wounds with a glamor, there wasn't one that could make him walk normally.

Dudley had tried to clean him up as best he could, but, in the middle of the treating the wounds, Vernon had stormed into the room. Discovering his son helping the 'freak' that was Harry had enraged the man beyond anything he'd ever seen before. After sending his terrified, but angry son back to his own room, the giant hulk of Vernon bore down on Harry for the second time that night, bringing the blood that Dudley had worked so hard to clean up pouring down his body again.

Harry hoped from the bottom of his heart and soul that Dudley was okay. When they were young, his cousin had teased him mercilessly, but after the abuse had turned from emotional to physical, the mean Dudley had ceased to exist. He became gentle and, without him, Harry was sure that the beatings would have killed him long again.

'He would never hurt Dudley,' Harry thought as he pulled the blanket tightly around him. 'Dudley is his beloved son. Nothing will happen to him.'

The sound of the door sliding open threw him out of his thoughts. Harry stilled, trying to fight down his shaking.

"Hello?" a familiar voice called.

"Neville?" Harry murmured, pulling the blanket up only a bit.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" the brunette asked, stepping into the compartment.

"I-I needed some time alone," he stuttered as Neville took the seat across from him.

"I understand. Everyone needs a little space sometimes. I don't know in Hermione would agree though. She was looking for you earlier," Neville replied.

"Have you seen Ron?" Harry squeaked.

Neville nodded sadly. "He was being a total ass, saying terrible things about you."

"It's alright," Harry murmured, pulling the blanket off so his head was visible.

"No its not!" Neville protested. "You did nothing wrong!"

"Really Neville, it's alright. I've gotten past it. Ron was always a temperamental guy."

"It doesn't give him the right to say the things he did."

Following the Triwizard Tournament in Harry's fourth year, his relationship with Ron had been strained at best. The redhead had been jealous of Harry being able to participate for one. Then had come the death of Cedric and the news of the Dark Lord's return. Ron was one of the people who believed what the tabloids had printed: that Harry was a liar and a murderer.

The black-haired teen had spent most of his fifth year trying to avoid Ron as much as possible, although it made their living situation in Tower awkward. When he did sleep, Harry had taken to sleeping on one of the couches in common room and waking with the sunrise to be off to breakfast before Ron had the chance to come downstairs and find him. His few remaining friends, including Hermione, had grown concerned about his health, but he'd brushed it off with a fake laugh and a smile. He would remind them that his gaunt, tired appearance and small meal sizes were nothing unusual for him. Eventually, even the Weasley twins had left him be about his living conditions, although all of them still pushed him to ask for a separate room of his own.

"How was your summer, Neville?" Harry asked, sitting up.

He pulled the blanket tightly around himself, adding a third layer between his friend's eyes and the scars that littered Harry's body.

"Good. Gran gave me a new set of robes for my birthday," Neville said cheerfully. "How was yours?"

Harry wanted to tell Neville everything. The shy brunette had become known among the Gryffindor students as the 'Psychologist'. He was willing to listen to anyone, anytime and always gave the best advice. His guidance had saved relationships, calmed stressed first years experiencing their first exams, and was said to have even helped Seamus get over that fear of exploding objects that he'd developed at so many failed attempts at charm spells.

"The same as always," Harry shrugged.

'I can't burden Neville like that. He has so many other people's problems on his shoulders. He doesn't need mine too,' he thought sadly. 'Besides, who would believe that Gryffindor's perfect boy was weak enough to be beaten by a muggle?'

"Nothing special?"

"Exactly."


	3. Chapter 2: The Welcome Feast

Chapter 2

Neville and Harry had fallen into silence. This worried the brunette, but he said nothing. Pulling out a book on rare water plants, Neville spent the majority of the rest of the train ride reading. When they were about an hour away, he looked up to find Harry fast asleep, curled into the juncture where the seat met the wall of the compartment. Smiling to himself, he looked back down at his book. Harry always looked exhausted when he returned from summer vacation and his friend was pleased to see that he was getting a head start on catching up on sleep.

In the raven-haired boy's mind, however, not all was peaceful. Images of blood and gore flashed across the back of his eyelids, filling his body with dread, anger, and fear. Cedric, dementors, glistening red stones. Then there was him. He could smell the fear of his dream version of him as it permeated the air, destroying it. He was bloody and looked half dead, starving for food and love. Lashes and cuts bleed as he stood in the middle of the darkness, naked, waiting for what he knew was coming.

_Freaks deserve what they get._

At the half-hour mark, Neville called out, "Harry?"

The black-haired wizard didn't reply, stuck in his terrifying dreams. Reaching over, Neville grabbed his shoulder lightly. At the contact, the green eyes flew open and Harry let out a screech. Neville drew away in confusion and surprise as his friend flattened himself against the back of the seat, panting.

"Harry?"

"I-I'm fine! Just surprised."

Neville frowned and sat down again. Leaning forward, he set his elbows on his knees and let his hands hang between his legs. A serious look took over his features.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Is it those nightmares again? I remember you waking up all the time last year screaming."

"H-How-"

"You sometimes forgot to put up the silencing spells before you went to bed. It's hard to not be woken by screaming."

"Sorry about that," Harry sighed. "I'm sure that pissed Ron off."

"Quite royally. He's a bloody git, though so don't think about him for a second," Neville laughed.

Harry smiled.

"I've never heard you so open like this," the black-haired teen said.

Shrugging, Neville focused his attention back on Harry.

"What are they about?"

The smile drained from Harry's face, replaced by an emotionless look. Underneath was one on bone chilling sadness, the kind that could break mountains and cause trees to fall.

"Voldemort," Harry replied.

'Sometimes,' he silently added.

"Anything specific?" Neville asked.

"Cedric and the night that Voldemort returned mostly," Harry murmured.

'When I have dreams about him,' he thought.

"That was a horrible night, wasn't it?" Neville whispered.

Harry nodded, his shaggy hair falling in his eyes. It had grown out somewhat over the summer, although it was not of his choosing.

"I'm sorry for all of that, Harry. I'm sorry for everything really. Your parents and all that bloody stuff that's happened since first year," Neville said sadly.

"Thanks, Neville."

A faint smile played on the brunette's thin lips as he suddenly stood and pulled the two small trunks down from the shelf above his head. He set them on the floor, one in front of Harry and one in front of himself. Opening his, he pulled out the new robes that his grandmother had bought for him, the crest of Gryffindor sewn on the front.

"We should get changed. We'll be there within the half hour."

Harry bent down and opened his trunk. Finding his own robes, he took them out, running his hands over the black fabric. He took a deep, steady breath and slowly let it out. The rapid beating of his heart calmed and slowed. Even with his shattered opinion and respect for Dumbledore, the castle of Hogwarts was still had been his home, his only home. He ached to be back there, to hear his boots clack on the stone floors, the sound vibrating in the air.

As soon as he'd scrambled into his clothes and remembered how to wrap his red and gold striped tie, the train was pulling into the station. He and Neville quickly stuffed their muggle clothes back into their trunks before quickly leaving the compartment, Neville in the lead.

Stepping out onto the platform, he breathed in the cool night air, smiling a little. The pain and ache in his body ebbed slightly at the thought of being home. He spotted Hagrid off on the other end of the platform, shouting to the first year students. The giant man spotted him and waved, a gesture that Harry returned before being shuffled away by Neville.

"Come on, Harry. Let's try to snag a carriage before we're forced to share," Neville laughed as he pushed on his shorter friend's shoulders.

Harry rolled his eyes, but rushed ahead to keep from being pushed over. They found Hermione and Luna in one of the first carriages, waiting for them. Harry ignored the horses that only he and the blond Ravenclaw saw as he clambered in ahead of Neville.

"Where were you, Harry? We were looking for you," Hermione cried as soon as the raven-haired teenager had sat down.

"Looking for solitude," Luna replied, her voice high and unearthly.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged.

"Leave him be, Hermione," Neville said.

Hermione hesitated before she dropped the subject and launched into a discussion about their summers. Their stories and tales that sounded almost fantastical to Harry's ears. Hermione had gone to France, touring some of the greatest historical structures in Western Europe. Luna had, as usual, gone on a weeklong search for some obscure being called an Adar Llwch Gwin. She claimed that it could understand human languages, any of them.

When the subject changed again, he turned his attention to what came next. Ah, the Welcome Feast. He would be sat at a table where half of the people hated him for the truths he'd told and they'd refused to believe. They would surround his small group of supporters, giving him glances full of hate. Yet, he would have to ignore them all, no matter no much his heart screamed to give in.

The Welcome Feast was complete agony. The entire house was crammed at the table with only a few spots reserved for the new students. Harry hated the feeling on people so close on both sides, even if they were Hermione and Seamus. The contact sent cold shivers through his body that he tried hard to hide. Then there were the angry glares that Ron kept throwing at him from down the table. He kept his head low throughout the dinner to prevent from having to meet them.

"You sure you're okay?" Neville whispered across the table.

Harry smiled and nodded before turning back to his food. He played with it mostly, pushing it around so no one could notice how little he ate. Despite the apparent hunger he felt, he knew better than to stuff himself. His stomach, just as it did every summer, had shrunk significantly and it would take a couple of weeks for him to be able to eat a healthy amount.

Over the roar of voices, he heard one particular laugh. It was clear and loud, ringing in his ears like a bell. He glanced up without raising his head and, between the bodies of Neville and Dean, caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy. The blond was smirking at his best friend, Blaise something. Feeling Harry's gaze on him, Draco's eyes flicked to him, the smirk disappearing instantly. The connection, gray and green, held for a moment until Draco strangely blinked and frowned. Harry dropped his gaze back to his plate and started to pick at his food again.

"Hey Harry, have you started on the Transfiguration book for this year yet?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yeah. I've gotten to some of the animal spells," Harry replied.

"What, but that's three-quarters through the book!" Hermione said. "I'm only on the sixth chapter myself."

"I had a lot of reading time this summer is all," Harry laughed, fighting down his nervousness.

"I'd say," the wild-haired brunette huffed. "You've never been ahead of me in a book before. Then again, its better to have you study hard and do well than do nothing at all."

"I try, Hermione. Now that I actually read the material, it all makes so much more sense to me," Harry said quietly.

Sighing, Hermione shook her head, her brown waves flying.

"I told you so," she and Harry said at the same time.

While Hermione and the others laughed, Harry stole a glance in the direction the head table. His green gaze swept over the teachers that sat there, all whispering among themselves. Only McGonagall was standing, having taken up her spot next to the short stool on which the Sorting Hat sat. She held a scroll in her hand as she waited for the first years to finish filing into the room.

Harry tore his eyes away from his Head of House to go back up to the table behind her. Flitwick and Hagrid were murmuring something to each other, a hilarious sight due to the vast difference in their heights.

A few seats over sat the man who hated Harry more than anyone else in the entire room. Severus Snape had his arms crossed over his chest, observing the room with a look of displeasure in his eyes. His black robes fell loosely over his body, hiding the pale skin almost entirely.

Suddenly, his eyes flicked over at Harry and the dislike in them only grew. The gaze was challenging, daring him to look any longer. Harry looked away just as quickly as he did with Malfoy, his submissive side taking over for a moment. Trying to collect himself, he violently pushed down the habits that had been beaten into him by his uncle.

In the Wizarding world, he couldn't afford to be submissive. He was Harry bloody Potter, the Boy Who Lived. If he fell, then who was left to prevent the collapse of the entire world, wizard and muggle both? He was solely a tool to be used and he had come to accept that fact long ago.

_That's all you're good for, Freak._

* * *

Draco's head snapped up as a feeling of anguish settled in his heart. He frantically looked around, eyes wide. His gaze met that of his godfather and he frowned, his teeth pulling back into a snarl that wasn't at all directed at the older wizard. A silent message was sent and received as Snape nodded once before turning his gaze back to the other students in the room.

As quick as it came, the feeling was gone, replaced by the ache that came from the lack of his mate's presence. Draco almost groaned as he pushed his plate aside, his stomach rolling.

"Again?" Blaise asked from his seat next to Draco.

The blond nodded and rubbed his forehead with the base of his palm.

"Why does the connection come and go?" he moaned under his breath. "Why can't it just stay?"

"Because you have to work for what you want?" another one of his friends teased.

The boy stilled, his laughter dying when he saw the look on Draco's face, one of cold fury.

"Don't bloody piss him off, Jacob. I wouldn't put it past him to kill you," Pansy muttered.

"I won't kill you, Jacob," Draco hissed. "Just hurt you a little."

"If you call losing a few limbs to be only a little bit of hurt," Blaise chuckled, clapping his friend on the back.

"Shut it," Draco said as his anger disappeared.

"So basically," Pansy murmured, moving closer to the table on her side, "The connection you have with your mate is there for only a few seconds and then disappears, right? And there isn't a pattern? It's never at the same time of day or even every day?"

Draco nodded.

"I've felt it five times since the end of July, one being just now," he sighed. "Three weeks passed before the second time. The two others –three now- have been since then."

"So sporadic," Blaise commented.

"Wait!" Pansy said, sitting up straight. "There is a pattern. Well, not really a pattern, but rather concentration."

"Concentration?" Blaise asked.

"She's right," Draco murmured.

His hand dropped onto the table, banging loudly. It was lost in the waves of voices from the other students, but to Draco it was the sound of a profound moment.

"The first two times I felt the connection we separated by three weeks. The last three have all been in the last one," Draco mused.

"Your mate is here, at Hogwarts," Pansy said, a smile spreading across her face.

"Sorry to interrupt the feel-good moment, but why didn't this happen last year? Why now?" Blaise asked.

They grew silent as Draco crossed his arms over his chest, thinking. Blaise's words were bothering him. If his mate was a student at Hogwarts, then why hadn't he felt these brief moments of mental contact the year before? Why this summer?

"Whatever is blocking our connection is weakening," Draco murmured. "That god damn wall is crumbling and when it falls, I'm going to kill whoever dared to keep me from my mate."

He was growling now, his voice low and protective. The few times that he had felt his mate had been agony, for himself, but also for his mate. His father had told him that whatever pain his mate felt, he would feel only a quarter of. He could still feel the bruises from the first time, despite them not being there. The fact that someone had dared to touch his mate, let alone hurt them, angered Draco even more than their separation did.

"Calm, Draco," Blaise murmured as the doors to the Great Hall opened.

McGonagall came striding her, the air around her an expanse of power. The first years followed closely behind, cowering under the gaze of everything other student in the school. Draco turned his focus to them as his anger once again died down. As his eyes swept over the moving hoard, his focus came to rest on a small figure at one of the other tables.

Nestled between the wild-haired Granger and one of the other Gryffindors was Harry Potter. Although he was the same age as Draco, he'd always been among the shorter students in the year, his own five foot eight inches in height small compared to Draco's near six feet. Now, though, he seemed even tinier than before, practically drowning in his robes.

While everyone else turned to look at the crowd of children trailing after McGonagall, Draco watched the raven-haired boy instead. The longer that the other Gryffindors looked away, the more Potter seemed to slouch, almost as if a heavy weight was dragging him downwards. His shoulders and spine curved, his chin resting on his chest. The hands that had once rested on the table dropped into his lap, hidden from view. Only when Granger turned to whisper something to him did Potter straighten up, the emotionless look replaced by one that Draco recognized too easily: fake happiness.

Something invisible grabbed at Draco's heart, although he didn't know quite what it was. He brushed it aside as recognition. After all, he'd worn a mask like that many times, mostly when he was around his mother.

He watched the black-haired teenager for the remainder of the feast, trying to catch a glimpse of what could be under that mask. However, Granger and the other Gryffindors kept him occupied, eating up any possible moment for the mask to slip. When Potter got up to leave, Draco's eyes followed him until the raven had disappeared from sight.

"Something up with Potter?" Blaise whispered.

"I've just seen him do something strange," Draco replied quietly.

"What is strange for him?" Blaise joked.

"Gryffindors are out in the open, blunt. Why would a Gryffindor put on a fake personality?"

* * *

A/N: Like? Dislike? Read and review please! Reviews make me happy and make me want to write more. More reviews=faster updates.


	4. Chapter 3: Late Night Wandering

Chapter 3

_Harry stood in the corner of his uncle's home office, quivering fiercely. His ragged clothing did nothing to keep out the cold temperature of the room, which seeped into his skin and made him shiver harder. The cuff that was secured on his right ankle clinked softly against the chain connected to it as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He'd twisted his ankle earlier that day working in the garden and it hurt terribly. His hands were clasped behind his back and his head was lower in the submissive stance he'd been forced to learn years earlier._

_When he heard the door open, he didn't look up. His uncle hated it when Harry looked, spoke, or, really, did anything without his permission. Harry was sure that if the fat man could, he would have ordered him not to even breathe. Hearing a second set of footsteps enter the room, the fourteen-year-old stilled. He squeezed his eyes shut._

"_You're lucky to have such a wonderful cook as a wife, Vernon," a voice that Harry didn't recognize laughed._

"_Thank you very much, sir," Vernon Dursley replied as the door was closed._

'_Especially since it was me who made your dinner,' Harry thought bitterly._

_His uncle grunted as he took a seat in the wing-backed chair that separated Harry from the rest of the room. At the snap of Vernon's fingers, the black-haired teen silently stepped up so he stood beside his uncle's chair, head still lowered._

"_And this is?" the second voice asked._

"_My nephew, unfortunately," Vernon spat. "Say hello to Mr. Patterson, freak."_

_As he was slapped harshly on the ass, Harry raised his gaze without lifting his head. A tall man sat in the chair across from his uncle's, his legs crossed. He was thin and gaunt, his arms and legs stringy. His hair was jet black and cropped close to his scalp, revealing the slightly odd shape of his head. Harry almost shuddered when he looked at the man's face. It was as thin as the rest of his body, but the wicked smile he wore made his thin lips even tighter. To Harry, he looked a little bit too much like the snake-eyed Voldemort that he'd seen resurrected less than two months earlier._

"_Hello," Harry said softly._

"_Do you have a name, my boy?" Mr. Patterson asked._

"_Harry," the black-haired teen replied._

"_Hm."_

"_Get us some drinks, freak," Vernon commanded, slapping his nephew's ass again._

"_Brandy," the other man said._

_Quickly, Harry shuffled over to the small antique cart that had his uncle's assortment of alcoholic beverages on it. Bending over, he grabbed a clean glass from the lower shelf of the cart. He fought down a shudder as both men hummed happily behind him. Straightening up, he set the two glasses down. Within seconds, he had both glasses filled with ice and their respective drinks._

"_Give it here, boy," Vernon said._

_Harry went over to his uncle first, handing him a glass of vodka. The chain rattled as he moved around. Turning around, he slowly made his way over to the other man, his eyes lowered. He held the glass out to Mr. Patterson, who took it. Harry was about to step back towards his corner when the gaunt man's free hand shot out and grabbed his shoulder, forcing Harry onto his knees._

"_Vernon here told me that you're very good," Mr. Patterson cooed as he uncrossed his legs and spread them slightly._

"_It's all I'm good for, sir," Harry quietly replied, the man's hand moving up to tangle in his dark hair._

"_Glad to hear it. Such a beauty doesn't need any other talents," Mr. Patterson laughed coldly._

_The hand in his hair yanked on it and Harry sighed inwardly, positioning himself between the gaunt man's legs. He'd known this was going to happen since his aunt had told him the day before that his uncle's boss was going to be over for dinner. Resigning himself to fate, Harry rose up onto his knees._

"_You might want to rough him up a bit," Vernon sneered. "He seems to like that. Don't you freak?"_

With a gasp, Harry sat up on the couch, panting hard. Cold shudders ran through his body despite the intense heat of the room. He wildly looked around the room, confused for a moment. When he recognized that he was in the Common Room and safe, he closed his eyes and held back a sob.

Slowly, he stood up and grabbed his pillow. Lifting it, he found his invisibility cloak tucked neatly against the fabric of the couch. He picked it up and made his way to the portrait hole. His breath caught in his chest as he crawled through, the darkness enclosing tightly around him. Stepping out into the dark corridor beyond, he steadied himself and glanced up at the Fat Lady. She glanced down at him and nodded. He smiled in return before he quickly swung his cloak over his shoulders.

He walked through the corridors without running into anyone or anything. It was the first night of the school year and Harry knew that not even Peeves would be out looking for trouble. The excitement of a new term was too much for everyone. He stole a glance out one of the windows at the moon, which shone high above. It was full, burning brightly.

'Moony isn't having a good night,' he thought as he continued onward.

His destination was a familiar place to anyone who knew anything about Harry's second year at Hogwarts. He slipped into the bathroom and found Myrtle floating next to one of the sinks. She smiled when he took off the cloak, exposing himself.

"I knew you would come," she said as he approached.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"It's your first week back," she replied sadly.

Harry nodded silently. Myrtle had never asked him why he frequented the once-secret tunnel that lay beneath the school, a fact that he was glad for. It was enough that she knew he had terrible nightmares and that only the cold chamber calmed his nerves.

She floated away as Harry started to hiss the password. He watched as a growing hole appeared where the sink had once been, inviting him into the darkness. With a smile, Harry stepped inside, hissing the password again to close the entrance behind him.

He followed the path, sliding down to the next tunnel below. A few minutes later, he came into a giant chamber, as tall as it was wide. He took a slow, steady breath and let it out, loudly, his breath forming a small cloud.

"Edda?" he called into the darkness.

* * *

Draco drifted out of sleep, the feeling slid away as he slowly opened his eyes. Slowly, he turned his head to look at the clock on the bedside table. It was still dark out, the clock reading two in the morning. He frowned and sat up when something grabbed his attention. He sniffed the air.

'What is that?' he wondered as he silently got out of bed.

He quietly made his way through the dungeons that served as the Slytherin dorms. His feet hardly made a sound on the stone floor and, despite the cold temperature of them, he didn't feel it. The smell, fragrant, but strangely masculine, was distracting him too much to care. He tried to think of a way to describe it, but sound that he couldn't. All he could think of was that it was the best thing he'd ever smelled and that he had to know where it was coming from.

Slipping out of the Common Room, he followed the scent down the corridors. He was so wrapped up in it that he didn't even think to stick to the shadows, not that it mattered. Everyone knew that Filch drank himself into oblivion on the first night of school and, without him, Mrs. Norris's cries went unnoticed.

He stopped just outside a large door, sniffing the air again. The Veela inside him stirred and growled as he threw open the door. Stepping inside, he found himself in one of the girl's bathrooms. He vaguely remembered someone mentioning that this was the bathroom that housed the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, but he tossed the thought aside. The scent was stronger in here than anywhere else he'd been in the entire castle.

Suddenly, it was gone and Draco almost stumbled back in surprise. His eyes widened and he sniffed furiously at the air to no avail.

He was about to take another step into the bathroom when a ghost peaked around one of the stalls, staring at him. Her eyes were wide behind her round glasses, the twin ponytails waving slightly as she floated out into the open. She blinked a few times, sizing him up.

"Hello," Draco said.

The ghost stared at him for a few moments longer before she spoke.

"You shouldn't be here," she replied.

"I know that it's a girl's bathroom, but-"

"-You shouldn't be here," the ghost repeated.

Draco growled as he advanced towards the ghost, his hands clenching into fists. The Veela roared in his mind and he bared his teeth. No one got between him and his mate.

Taken aback, Draco stopped and frowned. His mate? Was that what the smell was? His heart stirred at the thought and he smiled a little, setting his hand on his chest.

"You're still here," the ghost said.

Draco shot her a glare.

"I'm looking for my mate," he spat.

"They're not here. No one is here except me," the ghost replied. "Now, go away."

"No, I'm not going anywhere," Draco snarled. "I may not smell my mate right now, but I know he's here."

"Like I said, no one is here and no one has been here for quite a while. Perhaps your 'mate' was one of the girls here this morning," Myrtle sighed.

She knew that Harry didn't want someone to be here when he returned from the chamber. He had his secrets and, before he'd found her in his second year, she'd had her own. If he wasn't ready to let the world in, then it was her job to protect her friend.

"My mate isn't a woman," Draco snarled.

The sudden knowledge calmed him. Draco had always been gay since the day he was born, but the reinforcement that the masculine scent had brought settled his fears. Veela mates were supposed to complete each other, but, once in a while, strange things happened. His parents were just such an example. They'd been mates, but Lucius couldn't stand the sight of his wife anymore.

"Boys don't come in here, you idiot. Get out before I go call Filch," Myrtle muttered.

Draco growled again as he turned on his heel and stormed off. The Veela in him was screaming to go back, but Draco's human side was too annoyed to do so. A confrontation with a ghost in the middle of the night didn't sound like fun to him.

He stopped when he reached the staircases. Slowly, he turned to look at the dark hall behind him. The ache in his heart had grown with each step he'd taken away from his mate. Looking forward again, he groaned loudly and headed back towards the dungeons. He knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep, but at least he could write to his father about these new clues.

* * *

The headmaster's office was quiet except for the soft shuffling on shoes on carpet. Dumbledore was pacing in front of his desk, the ancient Persian rug under his feet creating the sound. His hands were clasped behind his back and he stared down at the floor, his eyes narrowed in thought.

On his perch next to the desk, the phoenix, Fawkes, was looking smug. The giant bird was watching it's 'master' with interest as the old man tried to figure out what to do next. Fawkes saw his relationship with Dumbledore like that game that the humans loved to play. What was it called? Oh, chess! He'd made his move: Queen to E2, check.

"You're quite the little devil," Dumbledore hissed as he walked past the bird again.

'And you're a big one,' the bird thought, shifting slightly on its perch to a more comfortable position.

"I placed those restraints on him for a reason, but you just had to go and ruin them," the man muttered.

'Because you're interfering with the natural order,' the bird silently replied.

"They were designed to keep him safe," Dumbledore muttered.

The phoenix would have rolled his eyes if he could.

"He's mine to control! He was born to be a weapon for the war, my tool!" Dumbledore spat.

'I help the boy to weaken the binds just a bit and the old man flips out. I wonder what is he going to do when he finds out what else I helped the boy do,' Fawkes chuckled inwardly.

Dumbledore stopped in front of the bird and glared at it. The grandfatherly glint in his eyes was gone, replaced by his true self.

"When the restraints faltered last year, I thought it was just time weakening them, but, now, it's happening again. I felt it again tonight. It was you, wasn't it? What did you do?" the old man asked.

The phoenix looked away from him to preen his feathers. Dumbledore glared at the bird before he went back to his pacing.

'I'll have to put another layer on the restrains. I can't have Harry running around at full strength yet. Voldemort must be lured into my trap first,' the elderly headmaster thought.

His hands clenched at his sides at the thought of one brat ruining his plans. Everything had been going smooth until Harry had returned to school the year before. He'd started to push everyone away, including Dumbledore. The old man had tried everything to bring the boy back into his arms, even paying that gold digger Weasley to suddenly become Harry's newest enemy, not that the boy had been a true friend in the first place, just an actor paid by Dumbledore. Nothing had worked and he could feel his control slipping.

The news from Lucius Malfoy that his son Draco may soon need special apartments for himself and his mate had only added to his aggravation. The elder Malfoy had never been a fan of his –nor the younger one- and the blond wizard had spent the last year torturing him with letters detailing all that the young Veela would need. Dumbledore felt tempted to tear out his overly long beard with annoyance. Why was it taking the damn Slytherin so long? Was he that dumb or was Lucius just playing with him? Albus shook his head at that thought. The Malfoys were well-known Veelas and Veelas always took their mate search seriously. One such as Lucius would never joke about such an important event.

He sat down behind his desk, scowling at the room around him. There were too many distractions. He needed to focus on the problem that was Harry Potter, his escaped pawn.

* * *

A/N: And so the plot thickens! Draco was SO CLOSE, but not quite there. Hehe. I felt a bit evil writing that. Oh and a quick thank you to my now-99 followers on his story. It feels so great having people enjoy my work. Thank you very much for reading.I'm thinking about starting to do previews at the end of each chapter because it seems to help be plan everything out so here it is:

Preview: Harry has a bad day. Draco sees something he wishes he didn't.


	5. Chapter 4: The Decent

Chapter 4: The Decent

The following morning, Harry was exhausted and feeling worse than he had the night before. His already sleep deprived body hadn't taken well to his activities from the night before and his head ached terribly. The muscles in his stomach were cramping, pulling his already concave stomach inward further. A tired feeling had settled into the rest of his body, breaking down barriers of tolerance and concentration. From the moment he'd opened his eyes, he'd known that he was reaching his limits. After years of living with the Dursleys, Harry had a high tolerance for pain, but what he was feeling now was close to his breaking point.

He rubbed his forehead in an attempt to get rid of the pain as he trudged to Potions alongside Neville. Hermione and Seamus were ahead of them, quietly discussing something that Harry couldn't quite make out. As they entered the classroom, he groaned softly and sat in his seat in the far back corner. Neville, who sat the table in front of him, shot him a worried look and Harry smiled a little in reply. The shy brunette had always been the most observant of Harry's friends and he didn't need Neville asking any more questions than he already had.

"Potter," Draco hissed as he sat down next to the black-haired teen.

Harry almost moaned as the growl from the other student permeated his ears and rung in his head. His temples throbbed, his brain seeming to pound against the inside of his skull.

"Malfoy," he quietly replied.

"How was your summer?" Draco asked, trying to sound civil.

Surprised, Harry gave the Slytherin a sideways glance and a frown.

"Fine?" he replied.

Sensing the hidden question, Draco turned to the small raven-haired boy and looked into the glistening green eyes. His heart stilled for a moment before it started to pump rapidly.

"I was thinking a little bit and I believe that it is time we put all of this bad blood behind us," he said.

Harry blinked a few times, the weight of what was said settling in his brain. Draco Malfoy wanted to end their six yearlong feud?

"You do?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded. Before falling asleep the night before, the young blond had spent almost an hour puzzling over the strange enigma that was Harry Potter. He'd thought that he knew everything about the Boy-Who-Lived, but his strange behavior at the feast had shown Draco how little he did.

"I do. I think that we just got off on the wrong foot, so to say. I'm not saying that we have to be friends right away, but I don't think we necessarily need to be rivals," Draco said, shrugging.

Narrowing his eyes a little, Harry examined the blond before him. Everyone knew about the Malfoy family's role with Voldemort as Death Eaters. Harry himself had seen Lucius, Draco's father, at the Dark Lord's resurrection during his fourth year.

"Alright."

"Really?"

Harry nodded and smiled a little. The two teenagers turned away from each other as Professor Snape swept into the room, robes billowing. He made his way to the front of the room, a deep scowl on his face. Feeling the anger that emanated from the dark-haired man, Harry hunkered down in his seat a little.

It wasn't a fear of the dark professor that made the submissive side of Harry rise to the surface, but rather what he symbolized. In the safety of his home, Vernon Dursley had been a dominating man, the kind that commanded the attention of the room with his raw power and authoritative personality. Severus Snape was much the same kind of person and even being the presence of such a man as Snape brought all of Harry's nightmares and memories back in a flash of blood and pain.

"Today, you will be working on a very complex potion so watch yourselves. I don't want to send anyone to the Hospital Wing like last year because they burned themselves. It may be your first class back, but I won't take excuses from any of you," Snape spat in his typical low drawl.

His dark eyes landed on Harry, who quickly dropped his gaze to the desk in front of him. He could feel the professor's fierce stare on him even as the man continued to speak. It took all of his will power to not close his eyes and block out the world.

"The potion is a calming draught. Its effects are limited to a short amount of time and are usually used for patients that have frequent panic attacks. Because of the short lifespan of the results, there are few to no side effects and it helps the patient calm down enough to be able to control their panic themselves. You'll find it on page 41," Snape said. "Questions?"

As was custom, Hermione's hand shot upwards. Harry tuned her out, lost in his own thoughts. A short-term calming potion would be helpful when he woke up from his nightmares. He enjoyed the bonding time with Edda, but he couldn't rely on his friend too much. There would be times then Edda wouldn't be there to help him calm down.

With a sudden burst of energy, Harry pulled his potions book in front of him and flipped to the correct page. Reading through the ingredients, he became more and more excited. He recognized everything on the list. His quest to better his potions skills the year before was coming in handy.

"Alright Potter, let's get this started," Draco said, moving his chair so he sat in front of the cauldron next to the desk.

Standing, Harry shifted his chair over to Draco's desk so they both had a better vantage point. The remainder of the class went smoothly with Harry's chipper mood. He and Draco managed to finish their potion first and Harry could feel that Draco was impressed with his newfound potions skills.

"I never knew that you were good at potions," Draco said as they watched the liquid simmer.

"You didn't look close enough," Harry laughed.

It was his first true laugh since before he'd returned to the Dursleys to the summer and it felt relieving. His mood weakened when he felt a presence slink up behind him and he stiffened. A giant hand reached around him to grab the stirring stick, pulling it up out of the solution. The three of them watched the thick liquid as it dripped from the stick back into the cauldron.

"Surprisingly, you've done well, Potter, and you Draco, of course," Snape growled as he set the stick back into the potion. "Five points for Slytherin."

Despite not gaining points, Harry was more than pleased with the praise. He could hear faint grumblings from his lion classmates, but he ignored them. Snape never said anything nice about anyone outside of his house and it was Harry's first complement in months.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said quietly, stealing a glance up at the professor.

Snape smirked and walked off to berate another student for their stupidity. Harry's gaze dropped to the potion and rose to look over at Draco. The blond was staring at him, the faint downward slant to his eyebrows the only indication of what he was feeling.

Harry laughed again and shot the Slytherin a small smile. He felt strangely calm around Draco in a way that he'd never felt around anyone before. Not even Neville could make him feel as collected as being around Draco did. Harry felt like he had some amount of control.

The two boys rushed to bottle their potion when the bell rang. Setting the bottles in the cabinet marked for their class, Harry hurried back to his seat to grab his things.

"Potter, stay after class for a minute please," Snape called out.

Harry and Draco glanced at each other and the raven-haired teen shrugged unknowingly. When he was finished packing up, he silently stepped over to Snape's desk. The dark man was leaning on the edge of it, his legs and arms crossed. He looked down suspiciously at the small teenager in front of him. It wasn't until the room was cleared of all other students that Snape finally spoke.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Potter?"

The green eyes widened a little as a frown settled on his face. Any good feelings that Harry had had were obliterated, replaced by his usual unease.

"I don't know what you mean, Professor."

"Don't play dumb, Potter. The past year, you've been different. You're quiet. You're no longer friends with that Weasley. You cower in my presence. Look, you're doing it now."

Glancing down at his hands, Harry found that they were shaking. He clenched his hands tightly, willing the shivers away.

"It's nothing, Professor," Harry croaked.

Snape snorted and his dark eyes narrowed into a glare.

"This is something," Snape replied confidently.

"Why do you care so much, sir?" Harry asked, trying to appeal to the man's hatred for him to allow him to quickly leave.

"I don't, but when one of my lesser-than-good students suddenly becomes smart, it peaks my interest," Snape sighed. "If you don't want to tell me, then get the hell out. I don't want to deal with a fool like you any longer than I have to."

Harry nodded and silently walked to the door, slipping out of the classroom. When he was sure that he was out of earshot, he took off running. Panic soared through his veins, wiping out everything else. His breath came in ragged gasps as Harry dodged around other students, trying as hard as possible not to touch them. Unfortunately, he slipped on one patch of wet floor and he slid directly into a group of first years, knocking them over. With a quick apology, he took off again.

Reaching the boy's bathroom, he burst into one of the open stalls. He curled up on the floor, his head in the toilet as his small breakfast came up. His entire body shook as he heaved again and again, his hands gripping the seat. When it was over, he coughed a few times. He spat out the excess vomit and rested his forehead against the cool seat, closing his eyes.

"_Freak!"_

"_Please Uncle stop!"_

"_Shut up, freak and enjoy it! No one else wants you but me! Who would want a freak like you?"_

"_No! My-"_

"_-Your parents didn't even want you! You should have just died with them!"_

_Hands reached for him, grabbing him. Fingers dug into his skin, creating blue bruises. _

The door to the bathroom opened and quietly closed. He heard footsteps, but paid no attention to them. There was a knock on the door.

"Potter?"

It was Draco. Groaning, Harry forced himself up and turned to see the blond giving him a worried look. He'd forgotten to lock the door behind him and Harry silently cursed himself for that. The Slytherin was seeing him at his weakest.

"I'm okay," Harry said, giving Draco one of his fake smiles. "Just something bad at breakfast."

"You're sure?" Draco asked.

Harry scowled at him and pushed himself up off the floor, flushing the toilet. Storming past Draco, he went over to one of the sinks and, turning on the faucet, swished a handful of water into his mouth. He tipped his head back and gurgled before spitting it back into the sink. After repeating this a few times, he turned the water off and faced Draco.

"What is it with everyone asking if I'm okay? I said I was fine so just drop it," Harry snapped as he stomped out of the bathroom.

* * *

Lucius was rifling through some old books on Dark Magic in a shadowed corner of the Malfoy family library. He snarled in annoyance as he threw another useless one down on the ground. Picking up the next, he quickly skimmed it. Rendering it meaningless as well, he tossed it on top of the others and leaned back against the bookcase behind him. He crossed his legs in front of him, groaning softly from the strong annoyance he felt.

He hated it when Draco and Severus left to go back to Hogwarts. It rendered him basically the sole participant in the search for whatever was preventing his son from finding his mate. The endless research was tedious and tiresome. This became even more so when he'd moved onto the ancient books he was currently looking in. The dark magic that protected them voided any search spells he'd attempted.

'Why is this so hard?' he spat inwardly. I love him, but Draco will owe me a large debt when this is over.'

Growling to himself, he leaned forward and took another book in his hand. It was wrapped in chains and covered in dust. Blowing away the dust, he quickly unlocked the clasp and let the chains fall away. He quickly opened it, his eyes scanning over the contents of the first page. A frown grew on his face as he read, leaning a little closer.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped up and he bolted down the aisle in a very un-Malfoy-like fashion. Sliding through the door that led to the hallway, he dashed towards his office. House elves leapt out of his way as he rushed down the corridor, throwing the door open. When he reached his desk, he was breathing hard. Grabbing a sheet of parchment and a quill, he set the book down and quickly scrawled out a frantic note. The more he wrote, the wide his smile of absolute joy grew.

"Leak!" he shouted as he sealed the letter with black wax.

"Yes Master?" the small house elf asked, peaking around the door.

"Send this to Draco," Lucius said. "Use Mayhem."

The house elf dashed forward and grabbed the letter from the desk before scampering towards the manor's owlry. Throwing himself into his desk chair, Lucius set his legs up on the desk and picked up the book again. He reopened it and started to read.

_Restraint spells have been used for a variety of uses for hundred of years, the most common being binding the powers of magical beasts that are too unruly._

_The most dangerous of them all is Animas Prohibe. If done correctly, this spell is powerful enough to bind any magical creature. If not, it is explosive, volatile, and deadly. It has even been rumored to cause insanity. The most famous case of an Animas Prohibe is the highly documented Dragon of Sir Gawain in the 12__th__ century. Sir Gawain used an Animas Prohibe to hold the dragon down while the killed it with his magically endowed battle axe, Bloodringer._

_The Animas Prohibe is also capable of preventing a witch of wizard to come into their inheritance, if it is that of a magical creature._

* * *

_A/N: So now what is separating them has been brought to light. I totally made up Animas Prohibe. Animus means soul in Latin so I thought it was appropriate. _


	6. Chapter 5: Opening Up

Chapter 5: Opening Up

By the end of the day, Harry was restless, despite the state of his body. As soon as he'd stormed out the bathroom that morning, guilt had started to eat at him and if there was one thing that Harry hated more than anything else it was feeling guilty. It was an emotion that he'd never done well with, probably due to his low opinion of himself. Harry had been raised to believe that he didn't deserve even the dirt under his feet and, when he was given anything better, it was a debt to be paid.

Harry shuddered at the thought. His uncle had always collected his 'debt's in full, or at least what Vernon considered to be appropriate. In the back of his mind, Harry could hear the clanking of the chain that had been attached to his ankle every day for the past two summers. There was nothing else like the clink of metal against wood. The sound was so soft, but painfully obvious. It filled his nightmares and daydreams with horrific clarity, seeping into his very soul, where the metal dug into the flesh and made it bleed sorrow.

Midnight found the teenager on a couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, his legs propped up on an ottoman. His books were stacked up next to him in a haphazard pile, Hermione curled up on the other side. She was editing his potions essay, her quill ghosting over the parchment as she read. Stealing a glance at her, Harry was a bit relieved to see her brow furrowed in concentration. On anyone else, the look would have been read as confusion, but Harry knew Hermione well enough to know that she was following his deductions with ease. The frown was from her brain soaking up whatever new information he'd written in his essay.

"Hey Neville?" Harry quietly asked.

The brunette turned to look back at Harry from his position on the floor. He was lying down on his stomach, rolling his remeberall back and forth across the rug. Somehow, in the six years since he'd received it, Neville had managed to keep better track of the small glass ball than he did of his pet toad.

"I have a question," Harry continued as he slipped off the couch to sit next to the brunette.

"Alright?" Neville replied, sitting up.

Sensing his friend switching into his physiatrist mode, Harry shifted his weight from one side to the other uncomfortably.

"I… sort of feel bad about something I did today," he started.

"Like breathing?" Ron spat from across the room.

Harry took a deep breath and quietly let it out in a sigh of annoyance. He rolled his eyes as Neville gave him a sympathetic look. When Harry and Ron's relationship fell apart, the brunette and the other two boys in the sixth year dorm had proposed to kick the redhead out. Harry, being the person he was, decided to go instead and had taken up residence on the couch. He'd found that the couches were surprisingly comfortable, especially compared to the cot in his cupboard.

"Shut it, Weasley," Seamus snarled. "You're not involved in their conversation as far as I can see."

He was sitting in a chair close to the fire, a table pulled up in front of him so he and Dean could play Wizard's Chess. After Harry's departure from the room, the relationship between the Irishman and the redhead had quickly become sour. By the end of the first week, Seamus and Ron had given each other black eyes and split lips, forcing Dean and Neville to lay down rules on what they could talk about in the dorm room. The fights had ended, but it didn't mean that the tension did. Seamus refused to go anywhere near Ron and the Weasley had, in turn, made Seamus into a victim of gossip.

"I don't need to be involved to voice my opinion," Ron replied.

"No one cares about your opinions," Seamus hissed.

"It doesn't mean that I can't say whatever I bloody damn well please," the red haired teen laughed.

Sensing his friend about to leap up from his seat, Harry held up a hand to silence him.

"Seamus, it's okay," Harry calmly cut in.

The Irishman threw Harry an enraged look, but settled back into his chair, muttering something under his breath to Dean. The other Gryffindor nodded once in reply before they turned back to their game.

"Would you like to go somewhere else to talk? We still have an hour before curfew," Neville said.

Harry nodded and the two boys stood up. Hermione didn't look away from her reading, but she did reach out to pat the pile of Harry's books, signaling to him that she would take care of them for him.

"Run Potter! Run away from reality!" Ron called after them as Harry and Neville exited the Common Room through the portrait hole. "Just because you don't want to look at what you really are doesn't mean that no one else sees it!"

When the Fat Lady swung closed and muffled Ron's yells, Harry pushed his hands into his pockets and his shoulders slumped. He hung his head, scuffing at the stone floor with his worn shoes.

"I'm sorry about Ron," Neville said quietly.

"It's okay. I'm over it," Harry sighed as he lifted his head and ran his fingers through the nest of black that was his hair.

"Shall we walk?"

Harry nodded and fell into step next to Neville. The corridors were mostly empty save for a few older couples snogging behind the statues and the occasional first year rushing back from the library with books in hand. Harry smiled at these poor souls. It seemed the Snape had given them their first essay and the first years were desperate to get on the moody professor's good side. The other students didn't have to heart to tell them that it was a useless waste of time.

"So what did you do?" Neville finally asked after a few minutes of silence.

"I get angry at someone without cause," Harry said cryptically.

He wasn't sure if he should really tell his brunette friend about the truce with Malfoy. Draco had been one of Neville's biggest tormentors before the blond had strangely stopped in their third year.

"At Professor Dumbledore?" Neville asked.

Harry shook his head.

"Hermione?"

He gave a second movement of denial.

"Another professor?"

"Malfoy."

Stopping, Neville turned to Harry and frowned.

"Draco Malfoy? Since when have you cared about he feels?"

Harry noticed the faint cold tone to his friend's voice.

"Look, I know he's a pretentious brat and he's been horrible to all of us, especially you, but-"

"-But?"

"-He asked me for a truce this morning during potions."

A shocked expression drifted across Neville's face. The dark eyes widened as Neville's mouth fell open, then closed, then opened again.

"A truce? Malfoy?" he cried in surprise.

"I know that it sounds really weird and totally out of line with his character, but he seriously approached me about it during class," Harry replied.

"And?"

"And I accepted. He said that we don't need to be friends, but that he didn't want us to be bitter enemies anymore," Harry explained.

Leaning against the wall for support, Neville dropped his gaze to the floor, eyes still as wide as plates.

"I'm glad," Neville said, smiling a little. "Is that what you feel bad about? It seems like a wonderful idea to me."

"Well, its what I did after that that has been bugging me," Harry sighed.

"Getting angry?" Neville clarified.

Harry nodded and sighed, leaning back against the wall next to Neville.

"After class, I started feeling sick and I ran to the bathroom. I threw up, but forgot to close the stall door. He must have followed me in because when I turned around, he was standing there, watching me. He asked if I was okay and I completely freaked out at him, running off after I'd cleaned out my mouth at the sink. I realize now that he was just trying to be helpful."

"No one likes it when others see them at their most vulnerable," Neville said.

"I should be used to it by now," Harry scoffed. "There were hundreds watching when I came back from the graveyard with Cedric's body and wept like a baby."

"Harry, that wasn't the most vulnerable state you've ever been in. We both know that and that fact is one of the things that makes Ron's attempts to break you down so sad," the brown-haired teen murmured.

"I don't-"

"You've never showed yourself to anyone when you've been at your most vulnerable, whether it was intentional or not. What it looks like, what it sounds like, what it feels like, you've kept it all locked away in your heart. Ron is trying to bring it out of you, Harry. He knows some of your weak spots and he's hitting them as hard as he can in hope that you'll shatter, but the reality is, that if you break, everyone else does too," Neville murmured. "You're one of the few things holding our world together."

Harry snorted. "I feel sorry for you all then."

"Don't be. There's no one who could do better than you, Harry."

"Really? 'Cause last time I checked, half of the world hated me and most of the other half are ready to drop me at a single command from a Death Eater," Harry muttered.

"Yet both sides continue to fight and neither are willing to give up yet. If peace cannot hold a society together, then it seems that war certainly can," Neville laughed. "As for Malfoy, I think you should just apologize and explain that you were having a bad day. If he'd willing to call a truce with you, I think he'd be more than ready to listen to what you have to say."

Sighing, Harry gazed down at the floor between his shoes.

"Thanks, Nev."

"No pro- Ah, perfect timing."

Harry's head snapped up to see Malfoy come striding towards them, his robes flying behind him in very much the same manner as Snape's. A prefect badge was attached to the front of his robes, settled just next to the silver snake of Slytherin. Noticing Harry and Neville, one of his eyebrows shot and he stopped, studying them.

Clapping Harry on the shoulder, Neville shot him a confident look before he headed in the opposite direction. Harry and Draco stared at each other for a little while before Harry worked up his courage and slowly stepped over to the Slytherin.

"Um, hi," he said sheepishly.

Draco cocked his head to one side a little, sniffing the air. He couldn't smell the wondrous scent that he had the night before, but there was something in the air. It stung at the inside of his nostrils, making them burn slightly.

"Hello," Draco replied.

"I, um, wanted to apologize for today," Harry murmured, scratching the back of his head.

"Are you okay?" the blond asked.

Surprised, Harry quickly nodded.

"Uh, yeah. Just probably ate too much at the feast last night," he laughed nervously.

"You hardly ate anything," Draco said, his voice flat.

Harry inwardly scowled at himself before the answer really sunk in. Wait, what? Malfoy had noticed that he hadn't been eating the night before, something that Hermione and the other Gryffindors hadn't? He remembered clearly where the blond had been sitting the previous night. Two rows of people, one Gryffindor and one Slytherin, as well as an alley of empty space and two tabletops had separated them. How had Malfoy seen it?

"Don't look so surprised, Potter. Malfoys notice these things," Draco drawled in the typical, bored Malfoy fashion.

A small laugh escaped from Harry.

'Lucius certainly didn't notice when I gave him that sock inside Riddle's diary,' he thought as he brought his laughter under control.

The snicker wasn't lost on Draco and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but he decided not to ask. He folded his arms over his chest and jerked his head a little, his wisps of blond hair repositioning along his scalp.

"Why didn't you eat anything?" Draco asked.

"I wasn't hungry," Harry replied.

"Why not?"

"That's my business to know."

"Fine."

Silence hung heavily in the air around them. The two former rivals stared at each other, green meeting silver. Neither of them moved as they both preferring to stand as still as the suits of armor that lined one side of the corridor. A faint breeze tickled at their robes, pushing at Draco's back. It blew over Harry's face and lifted his dark, wavy bangs, allowing them to settle in his eyes.

With a smirk, Draco took a step forward and brushed the hair away from Harry's eyes. The black-haired Gryffindor blushed slightly, clenching his hands at his sides as he looked up at the giant blond that towered over him. He hadn't noticed until that moment that Draco had grown another few inches, dwarfing him. His nearly white blond hair had grown as well, the tips brushing at his shoulders. Give him a few more years and he would be an almost identical copy of Lucius. Surprisingly though, that fact didn't bother Harry one bit. It had been the blank darkness he'd seen in the elder Malfoy's silver eyes that had frightened Harry since they'd first met in the summer before his second year. Luna called it the 'Silmadsur', the Eyes that See Death and she, Harry, and Lucius Malfoy all had them. Draco, however, did not.

"I'd better get going," Harry murmured, taking a step back.

Draco nodded once and clasping his hands behind his back, gave Harry a short bow before turning to leave. The Gryffindor watched him walk down the corridor, heading for the dungeons.

"Good night!" he called after the blond.

Turning to look back once, Draco smirked.

"Good night, Potter."

Harry rushed towards Gryffindor Tower, his heart thumping wildly. He'd known for several years that he'd had a wild crush on the stoic blond, but it had never been this out of control. Usually, he could contain his emotions whenever they were around one another, but it seems that the moment they'd gotten that close, all of his control went out the window.

When he got back to the Common Room, it was deserted, the other students having gone to bed. Harry smiled when he saw the blankets that had been spread out on the bed, a pillow propped up on one arm rested. Hermione had folded a pair of black sweats and a t-shirt and placed them meticulously on top of the pillow.

Grabbing his clothes, Harry snuck into the small bathroom that was just off the Common Room. Before he'd abandoned his dorm room, it had almost never been used and, now, it had been labeled as his alone. The door had a lock charm on it that only he could reserve and even the first years knew the steer clear of it or they would face the wrath of Seamus and Hermione.

Changing into the dark clothing, Harry set his dirty pants, shirt and boxers in the small basket that was collected each day by the House Elves for laundry. He walked over to the sink and grabbed the toothbrush that was sitting on the sink. At the Dursleys, he was only allowed his finger and whatever cheap brand of toothpaste his aunt bought on sale. After discovering this a month or so into their first year, Hermione had bought him his first toothbrush. Ever since then, it had become a tradition.

He brushed furiously at the yellow stains that had accumulated over the summer. When he was satisfied, he spit into the sink and washed out his mouth. Wiping his face with a towel, he left the bathroom, the door locking behind him.

It wasn't when he'd settled under the blankets on the couch that his slight blush darkened to a color as red as the background on the Gryffindor crest.

* * *

A/N: Aw Harry is so cute when he's embarrassed :P I am so excited! I have 45 reviews, the most of out any story I've written so far, 152 followers, and 59 people have labeled this story as a favorite. Thank you again for the continued support!


	7. Chapter 6: Harry Potter's Knowledge

Chapter 6: Harry Potter's Knowledge

The next few weeks were torturous for Draco. He'd received the owl from his father the morning after Harry apologized and, from that moment on, rage ruled his emotions. To Veela, there were few sins greater than preventing a Mate Bonding and, if it was this Anima Prohibe that was preventing him from finding his mate, whoever had cast it would pay dearly for it.

After a length explanation to all of his teachers, Draco had been excused from schoolwork for three weeks in order to search for any information on the curse. He spent almost every waking minute in the library, falling asleep at the tables on top of an open book until Filch woke him up in the middle of the night to escort him back to his private rooms. With each passing day, the pain in Draco's heart grew stronger and his enthusiasm started to wane, but he continued forward, desperate to find an answer.

It was on the last day of the second week of searching that Draco had a breakthrough. He'd received a pass to look around the Restricted Section and was perusing another shelf of dusty old books when he spotted a very unusual tome. It was an unusual yellow color and, upon closer inspection, he found that the cover was made of some sort of plant material. Frowning, he pulled the book from the shelf and weighed it in his hands. It was light despite being probably five hundred to six hundred pages._ Oldrich's Guide to Horrible Hexes, Cruel Curses, and Causes of Malignant Maladies of the Soul and Mind_ was written on the front.

'Quite a mouthful,' Draco sneered inwardly.

Carrying it to the small table he'd procured just outside the entrance to the Restricted Section, he carefully set the book down and took a seat. He opened it slowly, being cautious of the delicate state of the cover and paper. The heavy preservation spells that had been cast on it by the librarians sparkled faintly as Draco flipped to the table of contents. His finger skimmed down the page as he read.

_Chapter 32: Suppression Spells _

If not for the cold mask that every Malfoy wore, Draco's blond eyebrows would have shot upwards. He quickly turned to the right page and started to read.

_We have already established that spells of the malicious kind that are plentiful and commonly used whether by those of good or bad intentions. However, in the cases of suppression spells, they are used for very specific purposes. This is due to the vast differences between animals, beasts, and even humans. For example, the Fero Curse (see Figure 102) is applicable to only winged creatures such as harpies or owls because the curse affects only hollow bones. If used on a human, it will have no effect. Another example is the Gregor Jinx, which causes infertility in Pureblood witches and wizards, but increases the fertility of Muggleborns and Half-bloods._

Frowning, Draco skimmed through the chapter, searching for anything that highlighted the curse his father had mentioned. He finally found it in the last section.

_The Anima Prohibe curse is very dangerous and just as powerful. It is categorized as a Complete Suppression Spell, allowing the victim no room to fight back unless an outside force, such as another magical creature, weakens it. Because of its power, the Anima Prohibe curse is not a simple incantation. It involves a supremely complex process of layering certain aspects of the curse one on top of the other like a giant cake. Every layer works in sync with the others to suppress the victim's magical powers. _

_There is only one species affected by this curse: elves. All three of the larger races, Light, Dark, and Strider, are susceptible to it, although the only recorded cases have been victims who were cursed as young children. It is believed that adult elves may be too knowledgeable or too powerful to call to the curses effects, but children don't have the magical control yet to fight it. In all of these cases that I've found, the curse was broken in segments, peeling back the layers of suppression magic one at a time. See page 535 for detailed descriptions._

'My mate is an elf, then?' Draco thought.

The young Malfoy knew very little about the magical creatures. Following the fiasco with Buckbeak in his second year, Draco had steered clear of the class that would have told him all that he now needed to know. Like anyone, he knew that elves were some of the most beautiful creatures in existence, rivaling the Veela, but beyond that he knew very little. He'd never even heard of Striker elves before, whatever they were.

Standing up, he walked over to the librarian's desk and asked, "Where are the books on elves?"

"You want to know about elves now?" the librarian wondered aloud. "This must be quite a project you're working on, Mr. Malfoy."

"You have no idea," Draco sighed.

"They're over along the back wall," the librarian said, pointing him in the right direction.

Draco easily made his way through the crowded room, his stride graceful and full of Malfoy pride. A few of the younger students stared after him as he walked past, eyes wide. He chuckled a little under his breath, but continued on towards his destination.

Finding the correct shelf, Draco started to pull every book that seemed to fit his purpose, creating a stack at his feet. Making his way back to his table, he set them down and started to read. Most of the book detailed the beauty and raw power of the Light and Dark elven races, featuring detailed stories about their wandless, wordless magic. He was rather impressed, finding their magical skills to be thrilling.

However, he did find something strange within a few of the books he'd picked. Every now and then, usually in the midst of a great battle tale, another race of elves was mentioned: the Strider elves. Draco searched through the rest of his pile, but found nothing about them other than the names of a few of their kind.

He strode back to the shelf of elf books in annoyance, the tomes he'd already finished floating behind them. As they rearranged themselves into their correct order on the shelf, Draco started to sort through the remaining one, setting them down in a pile next to his feet.

When he was done, he knelt down to examine the spines. Some has strange named such as _Healer Michael's Collection of Historical Elven Battles_, while others were very straightforward. Unsatisfied, he stood up again to find a smaller, black-haired student standing next to him.

"I didn't know you were interested in elves, Potter," Draco smirked.

Harry blushed a little and shook his head. "I was looking for a book on Thestrals, Malfoy. If you look close enough you'll see that the shelf above the one you just cleared out is dedicated to them."

"Someone is snippy today," Draco said, his voice cool and observant.

"Not every day is great for everyone," Harry replied as he grabbed the book he was looking for.

Glancing down at the pile on Draco's other side, Harry raised his eyebrow and gave the blond a curious look.

"I'd say that you're the one interested in elves," he said. "Do you really need all of those?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I won't know until I start going through them," Draco snorted.

"Would you like help? That looks like a lot of reading," Harry murmured.

Draco frowned and looked down at the dark-haired Gryffindor. They had barely spoken outside of class since Harry had apologized.

"I never thought that you were one for books, Potter," Draco said.

"Then you don't know me very well. My grades are higher than yours," Harry laughed.

"He's second only to me," Hermione whispered as she came up behind Harry, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Really, Hermione? Who scored better on that practicum in Transfiguration last week?" Harry teased.

The curly-haired girl rolled her eyes and tugged on Harry's neck, choking him momentarily.

"Play nice, Harry, or I'll just have to sick Crookshanks on you," she giggled.

Harry shuddered a little and motioned to Draco.

"I was just offering Malfoy some help with his research. Do you want to join us?"

Glancing up at Draco, Hermione smiled a little, her eyes glowing brightly with the opportunity to read and learn.

"If the snake is willing to accept," she said.

Draco shrugged, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to get out of it.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" Hermione asked as she bent down and picked up at least five of the heavy tomes.

"Pretty much anything," Draco replied, leading the two Gryffindors back to his table. "I need to know as much about elves as I can."

"Why?" Harry asked.

He took a seat next to Draco, setting his own pile on top of the table.

"Personal reasons, if you must know," the blond said. He turned his gaze to Hermione. "I'm surprised that you'd offer to help me, Granger. I've always been so unpleasant towards you."

Hermione shot him a small smile.

"You and Harry called a truce and it was you who asked for it, right? I might as well make an effort to keep it going, even if you were a pretentious brat for years," she answered.

"And I apologize for that. I didn't realize how deplorable the language and attitude I had towards you all was," Draco sighed.

"What made you change, then?" Harry asked.

"I grew up, I guess. My mother is the one in the family that really hates Muggleborns and, unfortunately, until this past year, she's had a little bit too much influence on me," Draco explained.

"I find that hard to believe," Hermione mused.

"I can understand why. Everyone thinks that it is my father who is the evil one of the couple, but he really is a kind, gentle man. There were some bad circumstances that had surrounded him for the past few decades or so that have forced him to act like that," Draco calmly declared.

"But he's out of those circumstances now?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded and the two Gryffindors exchanged wary looks. Hermione cocked her head to one side in a silent question, to which Harry replied with a slight nod.

"We believe you," Harry said, smiling.

"And with this research, if you can't find an answer to any of your questions, you can just ask Harry or I. Harry know practically everything about elves," Hermione laughed, ignoring the glare that her friend shot her from across the table.

"I don't know everything Hermione. If you asked me a question about Light or Dark elves, I would have absolutely no idea. Strider elves, that's another story."

"There are enough books about Light and Dark elves," Draco sighed, "But I haven't found a lot on the Strider race. I'd never even heard of them until I'd started researching and, even then, they've only been mentioned in passing."

Harry crossed his legs on the chair. He felt more comfortable divulging what he knew in a somewhat more relaxed position.

"As you probably know, there are four categories of elves: Light, Dark, Strider, and House. We, of course, all know what House elves are. They are called the 'lower elves' mostly because of their submissive natures, small stature, and the fact that they've never mated with humans," Harry explained.

"The other three are 'upper elves'. They're much stronger both physically and magically. However, because they've mated with humans for so long that there are few purebreds left. In fact, the only Strider elves left are all humans that have gained the powers through an inheritance. All of the purebreds died out a long time ago. This makes Striders the rarest since the blood has been so diluted that it can become dominant in only a few set conditions," he continued.

"Why are they called Strider elves?" Draco asked.

"It is because their powers are so immense that they have to claim another magical creature as a partner. This partner is called Illyiria and serves as an outlet for their excess magic. Their Illyiria usually serves as a way of transportation and a battle companion."

"So then their Illyiria is their mate?" Draco said, a slight hint of sadness entering his voice.

"Oh no!" Harry laughed. "An Illyiria is like a best friend, a confidant. When a Strider elf enters adulthood, which is around age 15, they pick a magical beast to be their friend for life. This is the same for anyone who has a Strider elf inheritance and they still have a soul mate, just like Veela do."

"What else do you know?" Hermione asked.

"That's all I could find," Harry said. "The library doesn't have a lot of books about them so I had to order some special ones from Flourish and Blots. Maybe the school has some in the restricted section, but I've never tried to get a pass to look."

"How do you even know this stuff?" Draco wondered.

"Hagrid asked me to do a research project on them last year when we were learning about Kelpie or water horses. He said that a lot of the purebred Strider elves used them as their Illyiria because they could be used in both the sea and on land."

Sitting back in his chair, Draco examined the black-haired Gryffindor carefully. He'd noticed over the past year that Potter's grades and intelligence had somehow grown exponentially. The tiny teenager was no longer the brain-less idiot Draco had once thought he was. He had even known things that Granger, the biggest know-it-all in the entire school, didn't. Potter had even unknowingly helped him find out more about his mate, something that Draco had never thought possible. Draco's fingers unconsciously started to drum on the tabletop, a sign of his growing interest.

'Very interesting,' he thought as his gaze flicked back and forth between the two Gryffindors that were quietly chattering on the other side of the table. 'I must write to Father about this.'

* * *

A/N: We're getting closer!


	8. Chapter 7: Interhouse Mingling

Chapter 7: Inter-house Mingling

Over the next month and a half, the friendship between Draco, Harry, and Hermione grew into something that the three of them could have never predicted. They would sit next to each other in class and their free time was always spent together. At meals, they even broke the unspoken rule of eating at the table of your own house. Every other day, the threesome would switch back and forth between Slytherin and Gryffindor, shocking everyone and angering some, Ron in particular.

After a few days of introductions and light conversation, both Draco's and Harry's friends had accepted the new additions to their tables. Some of them had even decided to join in the inter-house friendships.

Pansy, after a rather heated debate over the use of monk's hood in healing potions, had fallen in love with the intellectual arguments she could have with Hermione. Whenever the two were together, the discussion would instantly evolve into something fierce and almost feral.

On the Gryffindor side, Neville was the most affected. Wherever Draco ate, Blaise ate and, when Blaise was around, Neville Longbottom fell silent and blushed constantly. The slight crush that no one had noticed before was suddenly the sole topic of all gossip shared among the Gryffindors and Slytherins. It took Blaise only a matter of days to ask Neville out for the next Hogsmeade Weekend and another week for them to become an official couple.

It was the day before Halloween and Draco was watching Blaise and Neville. They were eating and throwing each other loving looks. From his seat on Blaise's other side, Draco could see his friend's hand caressing Neville's upper thigh, getting a little close to his crotch. His heart constricted and he looked away, not from embarrassment at seeing his best friend feel up his lover, but because Draco himself couldn't do that to his own mate.

Despite the continued search, nothing new had been discovered about the Anima Prohibe, a fact that frustrated Draco greatly. The pages in _Oldrich's Guide to Horrible Hexes, Cruel Curses, and Causes of Malignant Maladies of the Soul and Mind _that had explained the various layers of the curse and how to break them had been, unsurprisingly, ripped out. When he asked the librarians about it, they said that the book had come to them that way from the private collection of an elderly man who'd died nearly thirty years earlier. Normally, they would have gotten another volume and copied the pages for their own edition, but another one was never found. Not even Lucius's best contacts in Knockturn Alley could find one.

Draco knew that his mate, wherever he was, needed him. He'd felt his mate several more times in the past month, all of them during the night, while he was asleep. The connection had come to him as nightmares that he couldn't see and only heard.

_Darkness floated around him, cloaking him like a giant, dark cloud. Lightning flashed occasionally, revealing nothing of what was on the other side of the wall of water vapor. Draco felt wet and cold, his clothes drenched in the rain that was falling all around him. His blond hair stuck to his head in thin tendrils._

_Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps and Draco frowned at the cloud in front of him. The footsteps were heavy and loud, domineering. He heard a short of annoyance._

"_Boy!" a gruff voice shouted. "Get in here!"_

_Draco strained his ears to hear the quiet response, but he couldn't make out whatever this second person said. _

"_Why is there still water in the sink?" the first voice grunted._

_There was a soft reply, one that Draco once again couldn't hear. His frown deepened as he heard the familiar sound of skin slapping skin._

"_Well, take care of it, boy! We don't give you a roof over your head and expect nothing in return! I will not tolerate laziness!" the first voice sputtered with rage._

_First came the soft shift of fabric and everything imploded. Draco heard something being tipped over and a yelp. Whatever had fallen clattered loudly on the floor, followed by a big splash. Closing his eyes, Draco tried to listen closer. All he heard was the frantic stomping of feet and a cold, terrifying laugh._

_Someone choked and coughed loudly before there was another splash. More stomping followed before Draco heard the sound of something large being thrown to the floor, a person he supposed. Whoever it was continued to cough and heaved a few times._

"_Clean up this mess, boy. I don't want to see a drop of water anywhere," the angry voice spat._

"_Y-Yes," a second, almost silent, voice replied._

"Draco?"

Startled back to reality, the blond Slytherin glanced up at Harry, who sat across from him. The green-eyed boy was giving him a knowing look, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Harry nodded once to him in complete understanding. With a soft grunt of faked annoyance, Draco went back to eating his breakfast.

As he ate, he stole curious glances at the black-haired teen. Ever since they'd met, Draco thought he'd known exactly who Harry Potter was: brave, and over emotional. He had been, in Draco's mind, the perfect Gryffindor, but now, the young Malfoy wasn't so sure. Becoming friends with Harry had given Draco a glimpse of what was under that cheerful mask that the Golden Boy wore. He was actually more of a Slytherin than a Gryffindor. Yes, he was brave, but he always had a plan before he acted upon it. Harry had a sneaky streak and he could easily slipped out of situations that he didn't want to be in, although he rarely did. He had an appearance to keep up, after all.

The most prominent thing that Draco had noticed was that Harry Potter wasn't really a happy person. When he was with friends, especially Hermione and Neville, his smiles were real and he clearly enjoyed himself. However, when Draco would see him in the halls walking to and from classes, he saw how the smiles were different. They were a façade, as fake as leprechaun's gold and so different from how Harry had been the first few years of school.

For a reason that Draco couldn't explain, that fact pulled heavily at his heart. He'd asked Neville, the confidant of the entire Gryffindor student body, about it, but not even the brunette knew what had changed in Harry. Neville had his theories, ranging from depression following the death of Sirius to a hidden illness, but unless they had solid proof, none of them could be verified.

"Isn't your father coming today?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Draco replied. "He's gone through most of the family library and is prepared to do anything in his power to help us go through the school's."

"So nothing new on the mate front?" Blaise wondered as he wrapped one arm around Neville's back.

Draco shook his head and sighed a little.

"What about the libraries at 12 Grimmauld Place? I'll gladly give him free reign of them," Harry said.

"I don't think that Father would appreciate being in Mrs. Black's presence for too long," Draco laughed. "She may be my grandmother, but she and Father never got along when she was alive, even if he is a pureblood."

"If you ever want them, the libraries are open for your use," Harry murmured.

"Hey, why don't we all go to Grimmauld Place for Christmas?" Hermione asked excitedly. "Then, we could search the libraries and we can all work to shut up Mrs. Black?"

"You know that Dumbledore will never allow it," Harry hissed.

"Why not? You're his Golden Boy," Blaise teased.

"Because of that, I have only two options: Hogwarts or go back to the Dusleys, which really does not sound fun in any sense of the word," Harry spat.

"They're your family, right?" Pansy asked. "Why wouldn't you want to spend time with them?"

"Do you have any distant relatives who you've seen only a couple of times in your life and you really don't care anything about? The relationship between the Dursleys and me is like that," the Gryffindor explained. "I stay out of their way and they stay out of mine."

'Unless Uncle Vernon is angry, in which case, it turns into a fucking hell,' Harry thought.

Across the table, Draco frowned, his Malfoy mask slipping. He glanced wildly around the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Finding nothing, he sniffed a few times, trying to pick up the masculine scent that filled his senses during his shared nightmares.

"Did you sense your mate?" Hermione asked, eyes widening.

Draco slowly nodded, his frown deepening as he turned back to face the table again. He set his fingers on the tabletop, his palms and wrists hanging down towards his lap. To Harry and the others, he looked like a confused, rejected puppy, imaginary ears drooping sadly.

"Cheer up, Drakey. You'll find him soon," Pansy said.

"You don't understand," Draco growled lowly. "It's painful to be separated for this long. There have been Veela who have died from it."

"Hey! Don't act like soul mates are the only kind of lovers who feel that way," Blaise replied, his voice harsh. "If Neville and I were separated like that, I'd feel the same."

The brunette next to him blushed, his fork lodged in his closed mouth. Pulling on his boyfriend's hip, Blaise brought Neville closer to his side, almost pulling the Gryffindor into his lap.

"Perhaps, but at least you'd have memories. I have nothing other than a scent, some occasional dreams, and their species. I don't even know what my mate looks like."

Harry was about to open his mouth to comfort his friend when he heard the familiar sound of shoes hitting the stone floor at odd intervals. Recognizing the clear sound of skipping, the black-haired teenager smiled widely and turned to see Luna coming towards him. Her own hair, as blond as Draco's, flew up and down in time to her skips.

"Nargle King!" she cried as she stopped in front of Harry.

"Thestral Queen, how are the Nordic Dungors?" Harry asked.

"They are pleasant today," Luna replied. "What about the Nesterlees?"

Harry shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Acting like complete Kinglags."

"That is too bad for the Nargle King," Luna said.

"The White Silmadsur arrives today so watch out for any raging Nesterlees," Harry laughed.

"The White Silmadsur comes here! That will surely upset everything, but the Silver Jubbercaws. We must both be careful. Ah, I must run! I don't want to make the Hapergold angry."

"Hurry then, Luna," Harry shouted after her as she skipped away.

Harry turned back to face his friends and was met by mostly blank stares. Hermione was giggling lightly.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Pansy asked. "Was that even a conversation?"

"You'd have to know Luna to understand," Hermione said.

"I've heard of her before. Luna Lovegood, right? The owner of the Quibbler's daughter?" Pansy wondered aloud.

"That's right," Neville murmured. "She's a bit odd, but she's really nice."

"She seems completely loony to me, but if you say so," Blaise chuckled.

"What was she even saying?" Draco asked.

Leaning in closely, Harry whispered, "A couple of days ago, I asked her to introduce the idea of researching more about Strider elves to the rest of the Ravenclaws or the Nordic Dungors as she has nicknamed them. She just said they're willing to help."

"And the Nesterlees are who?" Draco whispered back.

"Ron and his group of younger Gryffindors," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Kinglags are little devilish creatures that live in Northern Ireland trying to scare passersby, which is all that Weasley seems to do anymore."

"Who is the White Silmadsur?" the blond asked.

"Your father. Silver Jabbercaws are the Slytherins and the Hapergold is Professor Trelawney. She doesn't like Luna very much," Harry hummed.

"That seems like so much work to say such simple things," Pansy huffed.

Harry shrugged. "It's helpful. No one knows what the hell we're talking about so we can insult people when they're around and we can pass important information back and forth without anyone knowing."

Suddenly, a large barn owl flew into the Great Hall. Everyone looked up as the giant bird swooped down onto Draco's awaiting arm, dropping a roll of parchment into his lap. Allowing the bird to step onto his shoulder, the blond Slytherin quickly unrolled the parchment.

_I am here._

With a smile, Draco stood up from his seat, the owl still perched on his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Pansy asked.

"Father is here," Draco replied as he walked away from the table.

He made it to his godfather's office as quickly as he could. Normally, he would have run, but the owl on his shoulder reduced him to a fast walking pace. Whenever he got too fast, it would rustle its wings and nibble angrily on his ear.

Approaching the painting that guarded the Potion Master's private quarters, Draco whispered the password and stepped inside the porthole. As he clambered out onto the other side and into a dimly lit parlor, he saw his father and godfather standing at the unlit fireplace, quietly conversing.

"Ah, Draco," Lucius said as he turned to look at his son, "How goes the search?"

"Nothing new since yesterday, Father," Draco teased lightly.

"Any ideas or inklings as to who your mate could be?" Lucius asked with a hint of hope in his voice.

Draco shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately, no."

"So, these nightmares you've been having," Lucius murmured as he sat down in a wing backed chair next to the fireplace, "Nothing new there, either?"

"I had another one last night," Draco groaned softly, walking over to stand next to Severus.

"What was it about?" the older Malfoy inquired.

Draco winced slightly as he thought about his shared dream from the night before.

"I think someone was trying to drown him or something. From his voice, it sounded like he was a little kid," he said.

"It wasn't an ordinary dream then. It was a memory," Severus drawled.

"Very true," Lucius mused. "Veela mates are always born within a few months of each other. For him to sound like a child, it would have to have been a memory."

"Does he sound the same in every dream or does he sound older in some?" Severus asked.

"He always sounds fairly young, never more than ten-years-old or so," Draco said.

Severus snarled in frustration and crossed his arms over his chest.

"We haven't seen the worst of it yet, is my guess," he spat. "If they were that bad from when he was a kid, I can guarantee you that the memories from when he's older will be a lot worse."

"You are the expert on these matters," Lucius mused from his seat. "Are there any other possible clues in those dreams, Draco?"

"No. I've never actually seen what happens in the dreams. I'm always surrounded in his cloud of darkness so all I can do is listen."

"The connection is still not strong enough for that," Severus said.

"Why do you say that? Dream sharing is usually a sign of a very strong connection," Lucius argued.

"The mind's barriers are at its weakest when the body is asleep. Its walls fall much quicker because the person isn't able to fight back. If the connection is strong enough to allow dream sharing, but there is still something blocking it completely, then it means that it is not strong enough."

"I really hate this whole business," Lucius spat. "Who would dare to prevent a Bonding? It's punishable by Wizard Law, Veela Law, and Elf Law!"

"There are only a few wizards that I can think of that would even attempt such a volatile spell, but I cannot for the life of me figure out what their purpose could be," Severus sighed.

"Who?" Draco asked.

"One would be the Dark Lord himself, but he has too many important followers that are from predominantly dominant Veela bloodlines. He sees Bonding as a way to bring more followers to his side," Severus explained.

"Who else?" Draco asked.

"Dumbledore," Lucius snapped, reading his good friend's mind. "The man is powerful and power hungry. I wouldn't be surprised if the bloody old fool tried it."

"Then again, what is the purpose and why this particular person? He couldn't have known that the elf's future mate would be Draco. That is the one thing that Seer's cannot know about the future and, as far as I'm aware, almost all of the families with elven backgrounds have stayed neutral in the war," Severus mused.

"Maybe he sealed off one of their children's inheritance in order to scare the family into submission," Draco offered.

"Possibly. Dumbledore is manipulative enough, but I doubt it. Elven wizards have far too much power to submit to him," Lucius sighed.

"Are they really that strong?" Draco asked, bewildered.

The older Malfoy nodded, his face bearing a look of total seriousness.

"That's what makes sealing the inheritance of one so dangerous," Severus sighed. "They have so much power that, if it is released all at once, it could kill the elf and everyone else within a five hundred foot radius."

"Bloody hell."

"The fact that your mate is an elf just raises the stakes even higher," Lucius snarled.

"We need to find him as soon as possible!" the younger Malfoy shouted.

"Which is exactly why I'm here," Lucius said, smiling. "We're going to get to the bottom of this."

* * *

It was after midnight when Harry snuck out the Gryffindor Common Room yet again. Draped in his Invisibility Cloak, he slipped past the Fat Lady and made his way towards Myrtle's bathroom. He had to dodge Filch once on the fourth floor, but, apart from that, he was worry free.

As soon as he was in the safe confines of the cool bathroom, Harry sighed happily and slid the hot cloak off. Throwing it over one shoulder, he stretched, hearing his vertebra snap into place.

"Myrtle?" he whispered.

When the female ghost didn't appear, he repeated, "Myrtle, are you here?"

"She's not, but I am," a deep voice said from the shadows.

Harry whirled around as he jumped back at the same time. His whole body shook as Draco stepped towards him.

"Oh, uh, hi Draco," Harry stuttered.

Draco frowned, stepping up to the black-haired Gryffindor. He towered over the smaller boy who was staring up at him with wide eyes. His frown grew deeper when he noticed that Harry was shaking slightly.

"What are you doing here at this time of night?" Draco asked.

"I was visiting a friend," Harry replied.

"Myrtle?"

"Yeah, Myrtle."

"Well, she isn't here so what now?"

A shiver ran up Harry's spine as that deep voice vibrated through the blond Slytherin's chest. His gaze dropped for a second to the broad chest for a moment before he came to his senses and quickly shot his eyes back up to the beautiful face of Draco Malfoy.

"Um, I don't know," Harry admitted.

"You come here often, don't you?" Draco asked.

Harry hung his head and nodded. He clasped his hands in front of him, intertwining the fingers to keep them to shaving.

"How often?"

"Every night."

"Every night? Do you ever sleep?"

Sadly, Harry shook his head. In Draco's chest, his heart squeezed and pounded, hurting. Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around the thin frame, pulling Harry into his chest. The small Gryffindor stilled for a second before he relaxed into the embrace.

"Why?" Draco asked quietly.

"I come here to talk," Harry murmured.

"To Myrtle?" the blond asked.

"Sometimes," Harry said, shrugging. "Not usually, no. Do you want to know who I really talk to?"

"Yes."

Draco didn't understand why he wanted to know so badly. He hugged Harry closed, letting his face rest in the dark hair and his eyes close. Breathing in, he picked up a scent that he recognized. His eyes snapped open. It was masculine, fragrant, and familiar.

He was about to say something when Harry pulled away with a bright smile and walked over to one of the sinks. Draco trailed behind, the shocked look an almost permanent fixture on his face.

"Harry what-"

His mouth dropped open as the dark Gryffindor let out a series of hisses. He'd been there the day that the entire school population had learned of Harry's gift as a parsalmouth. After all, he'd been the one to initiate it, but since then, the fact had settled into the dark recesses of his mind, mostly forgotten. His eyes only widened further as the sink slid down to reveal a gaping hole in the wall. Glancing behind him at Draco, Harry smiled again and motioned towards the darkness with his head.

"Are you coming?" he asked.

"Harry, where-"

"-This is the path to the Chamber of Secrets," Harry explained as he slid down into the black.

Draco stole a last look back at the bathroom behind him before he quickly followed Harry. His lithe form slid down the descending pathway until his feet hit solid ground. Standing up, Draco blinked several times, trying to adjust to the light.

Pulling his wand out of his pocket, he murmured, "Lumos."

He gaped at the tunnel around him. It was large and dark, despite the light emanating from his wand. Water dripped down the sides, forming small puddles on the ground.

"Harry?" he called.

"Come on, Draco!" the Gryffindor shouted from further down the tunnel.

Draco followed the sound the footsteps until he came into a giant chamber. Canceling the spell, he shoved his wand back into his robes as he stared at the room. Harry stood at the far end before a giant statue carved into the wall. Large lakes of water lined the room on either side, a large stone path cutting through the middle.

"Harry, why the hell are we here? No one, but you has been down here in over fifty years!" Draco shouted as he walked over to the smaller teen.

"This is a secret I've been holding for almost a year," Harry sighed. "I doubt that anyone, but would understand. I feel like I can trust you with anything, even this."

"I'm flattered, but serious, what are we doing here?"

"Do you really want to meet him?"

Him? Jealousy rose up and roared in Draco's ears as he blinked in confusion. Harry was meeting a boy down here? Older? Younger? Whatever the case, he would have to be beautiful to catch Harry's eye, possibly even more beautiful than Draco himself. Could it be another Veela or one of those same Sirens?

He stopped when he heard Harry hissing again. The green eyes, so bright, stared up at him as the dark-haired boy smiled again. Draco heard a soft sound emanate from the shadows, the quiet grinding of something moving across stone.

"Draco, this is Edda. Edda, this is Draco."

"Bloody hell."

* * *

A/N: Hahaha this is the longest chapter I've ever submitted ever! I'm kind of proud. Draco is finally starting to figure it out! Things are happening now! Remember, if you want more quickly, it is simple deductive reasoning: if there are more reviews, I will get excited and if I get excited, I will be in the mood to write, and if I am in the mood to write, there will be more chapters of the still available sooner.


	9. Chapter 8: Others

Chapter 8: Others

Narcissa Malfoy nee Black was lounging in the sunny atrium of her sister Bellatrix's quaint country estate. She took a silent sip of tea before letting her head rest against the back of the chair. Setting the cup and saucer aside, she closed her eyes and folded her hands in her lap. Sunlight streamed down onto her face through the glass walls around here, filling the room with warm light.

It was heaven for a woman like her. She didn't have to worry about maintaining the household like she'd had to at Malfoy Manor. If a house elf made one slight move that upset her, she got to watch the creature be punished by its masters without having to get blood on her hands. Every need to she had was quickly catered to, no matter how frivolous, a fact that thrilled her.

She'd had few complaints about Malfoy Manor. Her house elves had been just as good- if not better trained- than Bellatrix's. Any dress or jewelry she wanted was readily available for her. Fancy meals designed after the work of some of the greatest wizard chefs were served whenever she wished. There had been one thing, however, that she hadn't had since the first days of her marriage: her husband.

Lucius Malfoy was a Veela, as was his entire family. Unfortunately, his mate had never been found so, following his twenty-sixth birthday, his family had arranged for his marriage to the beautiful Narcissa Black. Being an only child, Lucius had to carry on the Malfoy name and to produce an heir.

Narcissa had been thrilled with the match. She had Lucius had gone to school together and she had always admired him from afar. On her wedding day, she had almost cried with joy. Lucius the Untouchable was going to be her's. However, the moment they were alone, her hope had dimmed. Her new husband had been cold towards her and, after the deed called sexual intercourse was done, he'd retreated back to his own rooms.

Over the years, her love for him grew into raging jealousy. The blond man had never given up on his search for his mate, even when Draco was born almost nine months to the day after their wedding. He spent as little time with her as possible, avoiding her and her romantic advances like the plague. Narcissa hated the invisible person that was Lucius Malfoy's mate and, by the time Draco left for Hogwarts, she despised him too. Their son became just another person that Lucius spent more time with than her.

She smiled at the thought of Draco as a baby. He'd been the perfect Malfoy heir: blond, pale, gray-eyed, stoic. The only time she'd even heard him cry had been the moment he'd been born.

Her smile quickly turned into a frown. Draco's birth had renewed Narcissa's dwindling hopes for a full relationship with Lucius. She'd presented Draco to the waiting Veela with eyes shining, but as soon as she handed the small baby over to Lucius, she'd realized that it was never to be. The usually emotionally detached man had started to coo and cuddle his infant son, showering him with the affection he'd never shown his wife.

"Cissa!" she heard Bellatrix call from further inside the house.

"In the sunroom, Bella!" Lady Malfoy replied.

Her wild-haired sister strode into the bright room, the heels of her boots clacking on the stone floor. Narcissa opened her eyes to glance over at her sister. Bellatrix was dressed in her traditional black dress, her wand hidden somewhere on her person. Her hands were at her sides as she sauntered towards her sister.

"Isn't it about time you got a place of your own?" Bellatrix asked, setting her hands on her hips.

"Why would I?" Narcissa laughed.

"My husband and I don't appreciate your lovers, sister," Bellatrix spat in return. "They come and go at all hours and they've been making a mockery of my house. I can understand why you want a lover since Lucius was definitely not into you, but I would like it greatly if you found a home for yourself."

"Fine, I'll start looking," Narcissa muttered, rolling her eyes at her sister. "I don't know why you care so much. You used to bring all sorts of boyfriends to the house when we were growing up."

"Yeah, but Mum and Dad never knew," her sister sneered wickedly. "Speaking of Lucius, have you heard anything from him or Draco?"

"Not yet and I really don't care."

"You have no one to blame, but yourself, Cissa. You knew what you were getting when you married Lucius. A Veela cannot love anyone romantically other than their mate."

"Aye, but it doesn't mean that I have to like it."

Sensing the venom in her sister's voice, Bellatrix turned on her heel and left the room, shouting a quick, "Breakfast will be an hour" over her shoulder. Bellatrix knew her sister well enough to get out of there as fast as possible. She and her sister had never really gotten along. They were too different and Narcissa's marriage hadn't helped. Her sister blamed everyone else for the failure of her marriage to Lucius, including Bellatrix and their father.

She quickly made her way towards her study, which was at the far end of the house. The door opened by means of magic for her, closing when she reached her desk. It locked itself as she sat down at her desk chair. Carefully, she eyed the open letter that lay on her desk. The owl that delivered it rested on a small perch in the corner, watching her with wide eyes.

"If Draco isn't talking to her, then that eliminates that route of action," she murmured to herself.

Picking up the letter, she unfolded the parchment and reread its contents.

_Draco friends with the Potter boy. Possible mate relationship, but still unclear. Lucius here as well. Shall continue unless given further instructions._

Bellatrix tapped the heel of her boot on the floor a few times, pursing her lips in thought. Throwing the parchment aside, she summoned a new sheet and spelled a quill to write out the message for her so it couldn't be traced back to her. She stood up and went over to the bookshelves that lined one wall of the study.

"Watch them closely," she dictated as she studied her collection of dark books. "If Potter is Draco's mate, then try to keep them apart. Also keep an eye on Lucius. He's the biggest threat to us there. He'll do anything to keep Draco together with his mate."

She turned back to her desk as the parchment folded itself and flew over to the waiting owl. Clutching the paper in its talons, the screech owl took off through the open window, flying towards Hogsmeade. Bellatrix watched it, one of her signature smiled tugging at the corners of her mouth.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lucius Malfoy was also enjoying a cup of tea, although, his was quite different from his wife's. As per his orders, it was spiked with firewhisky, a favorite combination of his. He found the mixing of the soothing taste of Earl Gray tea and the sharp spike of firewhiskey most pleasing.

He was lounging in the guest quarters that he'd been reluctantly granted by Hogwarts's Headmaster. Two piles of papers littered the couch on either side of him. One was comprised of opened letters, both of a business and personal nature. The other was all of those that were still sealed.

As he was reaching down to grab another one, the portrait that guarded his quarters burst open and his son rushed in. Lucius frowned and glanced over at the clock that sat atop the mantle of the fireplace.

"Draco, don't you have class now? I don't think that your professors-"

"-I think I found my mate!" the younger Malfoy panted as he tried to regain his breath.

Leaping up, Lucius rushed over to his son and steered the blond teenager into one of the chairs. Draco threw himself into it, but, the moment his father took his seat on the couch again, the young blond jumped up and started to pace. A pang of jealousy hit Lucius, but he pushed it aside. He should be happy that his son found his mate, even if Lucius himself hadn't found his own.

"Who is it?" Lucius asked.

"You have to promise me that you won't be mad," Draco groaned, rubbing his forehead with his base of his palm.

"I won't be," his father replied. "Even if they were a member of the Light, they're-"

"It's Harry Bloody Potter," Draco shouted, abruptly stopping his wild pacing.

Father and son stared at each other for a few quiet moments before Lucius slowly nodded once. He slowly stood, his face cold and calculating. Even though Draco knew it was only a mask, he still shivered in the presence of it.

"Well son," Lucius said slowly, lightly gripping Draco's shoulder, "This is a great blessing and we shall rejoice!"

"Father?" Draco asked, slightly shocked by Lucius's apparent joy.

"Aren't you thrilled, Draco? He's powerful and a member of the Light! We won't have to worry about your mate working for the Dark Lord!" Lucius cried happily.

"Well yeah, but I thought you hated him," Draco murmured.

"All pretense, my son, all pretense. I am sorry about what happened to the Weasley girl four years ago, but I was still under your mother's control then," Lucius sighed. "Hm, but then, if the Potter boy is your mate, then that makes him an elf. Any idea what kind?"

"I'm not fully sure," Draco said quietly.

He wanted desperately to tell his father about what Harry had shown him in the Chamber of Secrets, but he's sworn to secrecy and starting off a relationship with his mate by breaking a promise was not something that Draco intended to do.

"Well, no matter. We just have to work twice, no, three times as hard! If he really is under the Anima Prohibe curse, then Potter himself probably doesn't even know what he is," Lucius laughed. "Have you told him that he's your mate?"

"No. I don't want to scare him off or anything," Draco explained. "Besides, I only figured it out last night."

"Really? How?"

Draco could tell that his father was thoroughly intrigued. For an unmated Veela such as Lucius, the concept of sensing ones mate was a dream that was yet to be lived.

"On the first night back, I woke up in the middle of the night to a strong scent and I knew right away that it belonged to my mate. It was absolutely lovely. I followed it, but couldn't find whom it belonged to and I hadn't smelled it again until last night," the younger Malfoy said. "You see, I scared Harry a little last night and I went over to hug him to apologize. While we were hugging, I smelled the wonderful scent again and I just knew it was him."

"And how do you feel now, Draco?"

"Thrilled and angry at the same time. I'm so happy to have found my mate, but, at the same time, I'm enraged that someone would try and keep him from me."

Lucius squeezed his son's shoulder again and nodded in agreement.

"We'll get to the bottom of this and I promise that the two of you will be together as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Father."

"Now, I do believe that you have classes to attend. I'll contact Severus and start on the school library. Ah, this a wondrous day."

* * *

A/N: I know this chapter was a little short, but the next one will be awesome! I promise


	10. Chapter 9: Suspicions

**Bold**= Parseltongue.

Sorry its been a while. I'm packing up my stuff for college so its been busy, but here is the next chapter to my most read (and most reviewed) story!

* * *

Chapter 9: Suspicions

Harry had been feeling strange all day. The aches and pains that came with his scars had returned in a wild rush, leaving him almost paralyzed when he'd woken up that morning. It was a mystery to him. He'd been at school for over a month. Why would they return now?

As the day went on, he became weaker and weaker. Something was definitely wrong, but he didn't dare go to the Hospital Wing or ask any of the teachers about it. He knew that they would say the same thing as Dumbledore and Harry did not at all appreciate being called a liar.

Sighing, he pushed himself up out of his desk and grabbed his book bag before shuffling out of the Defense classroom. His feet dragged as he made his way through the busy halls towards the dungeons, dreading the idea of being in the same room as Snape. While he did not hate Snape as everyone though he did, Harry did fear the dark-haired man. He was too much like Vernon for Harry to be comfortable around him. All of the orders, the yelling, the anger; it was too much.

"Harry!" Draco called out to him.

The Gryffindor turned as the Slytherin jogged up to him, flashing the large smirk that Harry recognized as his happiest smile.

"Hi Draco. How was Arithmancy?" Harry asked.

"Fine. After a while, there really isn't much more to learn," Draco replied. "Ready for Potions?"

Harry groaned and shook his head. "I'm never ready for it."

"I told Sev to try and take it easy on you," Draco said. "I can't promise anything though."

"It's fine," Harry laughed, shrugging. "If he started being nicer to me, I think I'd die from shock."

Draco rolled his eyes as he walked alongside the smaller Gryffindor. Turning his head, he sniffed lightly. The familiar scent, his mate's scent, filled his nose, confirming what he'd told his father the day before. Harry was definitely his mate. There was no doubt in his mind now. He hated the idea of Severus being antagonistic towards his mate and he hoped that his godfather would change, but he also knew that Sev was quite locked in his ways. It would take a near miracle to change him.

Stepping into the potions classroom, Harry quickly took his seat on the Gryffindor side of the room, next to Hermione. Draco inwardly pouted at being unable to sit next to his mate, but flounced over to Blaise to not raise too many suspicions. The Italian gave him a sideways glance as he sat down, but said nothing.

Not a moment later, Snape burst into the classroom, his robes flowing gracefully behind him. He cast a contemptuous glance around the room and sneered at the students.

"Alright you lot, I don't want any exploding cauldrons today, although I doubt that you'll manage even to do that. The directions are on the board and, if you have half a brain, you will be able to understand them. Ingredients are on the front table and get started," he snarled before he walked around his desk and sat in his chair.

The Slytherins snapped into action along with Hermione, rushing up to his desk, where they grabbed the ingredients they needed. The remainder of the Gryffindors slipped up to the table, grumbling the entire way back to their seats.

Harry quickly set up the cauldron over the fire and, when Hermione returned, started to slice the burdock root. As they worked, he could feel Snape's pierce gaze focused on his forehead. He fidgeted nervously under the harsh stare, but didn't return it and kept working. Adding the root to the mixture, he watched as the potion turned a light cerulean blue. He and Hermione glanced at each other and nodded in agreement before silently going back to their work.

About half way through the class, Harry's headache returned, his brain pounding against his skull like a club. Groaning, he rubbed his forehead, but continued to work. Black spots appeared in his vision and he sat back, trying to take a deep breath.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked.

The small Gryffindor didn't have time to answer her before he pitched forward, slamming his hands hard on the table. Hermione screeched as liquid dripped through the slight gaps between Harry's teeth, dripping red onto the table. Coughing, Harry pushed himself up and scrambled out of the room, fighting to keep down the torrent of blood that was threatening to rise in his throat. He ignored Snape's calls and kept running, nearly tripping up the stairs that led out of the dungeons.

Finally, he made it outside, the cool air bursting into his lungs. He coughed harder as his breath became ragged. Collapsing against one of the courtyard pillars, he slinked into the shadows behind it, holding the edge of his robe up to his mouth to help suppress the sound of violent choking. Sliding down the length of the stone column, he opened his mouth and let the river of blood flow freely up his throat, over his tongue, and to the ground between his legs. His eyes watered fiercely as he squeezed them shut, his entire body shaking.

When it was all over, he opened his eyes and groaned. The blood that had pooled beneath his knees shimmered slightly in the light, revealing his reflection. He stared at the scar that ran the length of his jaw. With a shaking hand, he reached up to touch it, the skin broken by an ugly red scab. The glamor was broken, gone.

Looking around frantically, he clapped his hand over the scar. Slipping out from behind the column, he sneaked back into the castle. He stuck to the corners and dark shadows, avoiding anyone that he could. He made his way to Gryffindor Tower without incident and quickly whispered the password, his hand still covering the ugly scar.

Sprinting up to the sixth year boy's bedroom, he collapsed onto his bed and pulled the curtains tight. He curled up into a tight ball, running his fingers over the jagged scar as he cast several silencing and locking spells. His whole body ached, the muscles screaming in pain as he waved his wand. Finished, he let the wand fall from his hands to the silk bedding, pulling his dominant arm in towards his body to trace other scars that were hidden by his clothes.

**Shit**, he hissed to himself. **What am I going to do now?**

* * *

Later that night, Severus called Lucius and Draco to his private quarters. He had been pondering over Potter's reaction to the potion the entire day, ideas as to why swirling around in his mind. While he did not particularly like the boy, such a violent consequence was something to be looked at. After all, he remembered the day when he'd first been asked to brew the Lesser Dreamless Sleep potion. It had not been as… drastic as Potter's, but he had faced something fairly similar.

He was pacing back and forth when the two Malfoys walked in. Draco, who looked even more concerned that Severus, took a seat next to the fire, trying to keep his hands from wringing. Lucius stood beside his son, his eyes clouded in worry.

"You said that you had something to ask us, Severus," Lucius drawled.

"Yes, I believe I do," the Potions Master replied.

"Is it about Harry?" Draco asked, frantically.

Severus nodded slowly and stopped his pacing.

"What do either of you know of Potter's home life?" Severus asked.

"Nothing," Draco said. "He never talks about his life during the summers and he never goes home for Yule."

"Interesting," Snape murmured as he resumed his pacing.

"Why do you ask?" Draco asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Walking over to the bookshelves that stood at the far side of the room, Severus retrieved a thick book entitled 'An Exploration in Non-Pernicious Potions'. He quickly flipped through it until he found the page he was searching for and handed it to Lucius. Leaping up, Draco whipped around to stand next to his father.

"Lesser Dreamless Sleep potion," Lucius read aloud, "Also known as the Carmichael potion, named after its infamous creator, the muggleborn Gregory Carmichael. Mr. Carmichael is best known for having been murdered by his younger brother while in the process of creating said potion. He had been in the process of making the normal Dreamless Sleep Potion that is often used while healing grievous injuries when his brother had snuck up behind him and started firing hexes at him. One of the hexes burned Mr. Carmichael's hair, causing several pieces of the singed hairs to fall into the potion. Mr. Carmichael died soon afterwards in the struggle with his brother."

Lucius looked up at Severus, raising an eyebrow. Sighing softly, Snape reached out and pointed to the section that he wanted the older Malfoy to read.

"Mr. Carmichael's younger brother was later reported to have gone insane due to the effects of the fumes the potion gave off. The gas that is produced from a mixture of burned hair and sliced andica petals is known to cause severe pain in those that had neglected or abused childhoods. The effects include headaches, nausea, and dizziness as well as vomiting blood in the most severe of cases."

Draco's eyes widened as his father read and he snapped his head up to stare at his godfather. Severus gave him a slightly saddened look, throwing himself into the armchair behind him. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose as Lucius slowly sunk into the chair opposite him, still gazing at the open book in his hands.

"Draco told me what had happened in class, but I never thought-"

"-That is would be because he has been abused? I was shocked when Potter reacted that way as well," Severus moaned, covering his eyes with his hand. "If I had known, I would have excused him from the lesson."

"He isn't in your house, Severus. How could you have known?" Lucius replied.

"I don't think anyone knows. McGonagall would have come to me if she did," Severus said quietly.

Draco stared into the fire, unsure what to do. He wanted nothing more to run and find his mate, but he knew Harry well enough to recognize that such a thing would only scare the Gryffindor.

"So, what do we do?" Severus asked. "He's Draco's mate and falls under your family's protection now."

"We need to get Potter's attention somehow, let him know that he is loved and can talk to us," Lucius sighed.

"We can't just walk up to him and ask," Draco snarled.

"Of course not. Do you think any of his friends might know what's going on?" Lucius asked.

Draco shook his head.

"No Gryffindor would be able to keep such a thing a secret, not even Longbottom, who is as loyal as they come."

"Dumbledore may know," Severus said slowly. "He's had a squib placed at Privet Drive for years. I doubt that she wouldn't have seen something."

That stopped Draco. He frowned and glanced over at his godfather. Draco had always know that the old headmaster was a manipulative man, as bad as they came, but he didn't think that the white bearded man would have gone as far as Severus was insinuating.

"I've heard stories from Minerva that Harry has begged her every year to be allowed to stay here at Hogwarts," Severus continued, "And Albus sent him back every time."

"You think that he's doing it on purpose?" Lucius asked.

"It wouldn't surprise me. He's always talking about how we need Harry to win the war, for Harry to be strong. However, Albus is too smart to let the boy go off on his own. He wants glory for himself as well," Severus said.

"What about the Anima Prohibe?" Draco asked. "Could he be responsible for that too?"

"If he is, then I want to be the first to curse the old man to death."


	11. Chapter 10: Shock

Warning: child abuse, some gore. Just saying that its going to be a bit depressing.

* * *

Chapter 10: Shock

Draco was worried. No, he was more than worried. He was terrified. Hedwig had sent the note to Harry over three hours ago and the time for their meeting was less than five minutes away. He paced in front of the Room of Requirement, a find made by his father when he had been less than pleased with the answers a certain spell book was giving him. Every few seconds, he would glance up, hoping to see the mop of dark hair coming towards him. Every time, however, he was disappointment and went back to his quick pace.

Finally, a minute before curfew, a body dressed in black robes slipped around the corner, making its way towards the Room of Requirement. Draco shot upwards, freezing in the middle of the hall as he watched the young man come closer. He sniffed the air, recognizing the scent right away. It didn't help his nerves unfortunately. In fact, the knowledge that Harry was coming only made the young Malfoy more jumpy.

"You wanted to talk to me, Draco?" the small Gryffindor asked, stopping in front of the much larger Slytherin.

"Um, yes! Yes, I did," Draco murmured as he inspected his mate.

"Well?" Harry asked, crossing his hands over his chest.

"I um, just wanted to be sure that you were okay," Draco said. "You know, after Potions-"

"-I'm fine, really," Harry interrupted. "Just a bad reaction to something in it, I suppose."

'You have no idea,' Draco sighed inwardly.

"I'm sorry, Draco, but I really need to go. I don't want Filch to catch me," Harry explained as he turned away.

"Wait!"

Draco grabbed Harry's shoulder, making the smaller boy flinch. Recoiling, Draco took a tentative step back, fearing that he'd hurt his mate. Quickly recovering from the habit, Harry glanced back over his shoulder at the blond.

"Yes?"

"I um- we can go into the Room of Requirement. Filch won't catch us there."

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. With a happy nod, Draco quickly took the required amount of steps and the door suddenly opened. Harry's eyes widened as he followed the Slytherin inside.

Lucius and Severus were waiting when the two boys entered. Tensing, Harry made a move to leave, but Draco gently grabbed him and steered him over towards the empty armchair across from Lucius. Giving in, the small Gryffindor let himself be pushed into the chair, shyly glancing up at the older Malfoy.

"Welcome Harry," Lucius said, smiling.

He gave the boy a quick once over. Harry was small, much smaller than he should have been. His body seemed to drown in the robes he was wearing, a size that was usually worn by a second or third year, not a sixteen-year-old. In his lap, a pair of lithe, but tiny hands clung together nervously. His hair, which should have been a lustrous black, was slightly dulled from lack of care. It was his eyes as they anxiously shifted from Lucius to Severus and back again that gave the older Malfoy a glimpse into what had happened to the boy.

"Hello, sir," Harry quietly replied.

Draco stood just behind his mate's chair, nodding once to his father.

"Do you know why I am here?" Lucius asked.

Harry glanced back at Draco before turning back to look at the older blond.

"Draco said that you came to help him find his mate."

"Exactly," Lucius said. "He told me that you and Granger have been helping."

Blushing, Harry seemed to sink a little into the chair. He nodded quickly.

"Don't be worried. I am not angry with you at all," Lucius laughed. "In fact, you and Granger have been exceedingly helpful to us in our search and I want to thank you for that."

"Then why isn't Hermione here?" Harry asked.

"Well, there is a reason for that," Lucius started slowly.

"Which is?"

"What we discuss in this meeting can not be revealed yet to the outside world. It would be a danger to all of us," Severus explained.

"So vague. You sound like Dumbledore," Harry snarled. "Just get to the point. I hate stepping around the issue."

"With your history, I'm not surprised," Lucius chuckled.

"Draco has told you that he is a Veela, right Potter?" Severus sneered.

"Yes Professor, he has."

"Good," Lucius cut in.

The aristocratic man sat back in his chair, relaxing a bit.

"I am also a Veela, as Draco's father. Unfortunately, unlike most, I am in a similar position as Draco. My mate has been unknown to me for reasons that I don't know. When I first came of age, I knew that they were still in existence, but over time, the feeling went away and I have been without them ever since. Draco's situation you already are aware of."

"That is sad sir."

"Yes it is. So when I came of age, my father had me marry Draco's mother Narcissa in order to produce an heir. She gained complete control over me through a series of spells and potions and forced me to take the Mark. It wasn't until after your and Draco's second year that I regained control over my own life. Since then, I had turned away from the dark, but at the same time, I have no joined the light. I am neutral, through and through."

Harry smiled a little. "That is nice to hear. I wish I could do that."

"Why is that?" Severus asked.

"The expectations would be gone," Harry explained. "I've lived my entire life under one expectation or another. When I was young, I didn't know I was famous, but the Dursleys made me think I had to be something I wasn't. Then, when I started school, it was the clear opposite."

Lucius and Draco exchanged a look and a silent message.

"Harry," Severus said slowly. "Did you know anything about the Wizarding World before Hagrid came to get you?"

"No."

"I thought as much," Lucius sighed.

"What did you know of your parents?" Severus continued.

"That they had died. My aunt said it was a car crash, but then again, anything not Muggle was not okay with them," Harry snarled. "Do we have to talk about this? I don't like the way this is going."

"We will have to discuss it at some point," Draco said, laying a comforting hand on his mate's shoulder.

"Why?" the Gryffindor asked.

"Because you're my mate, Harry."

Harry whipped around to stare at Draco. His eyes widened when he saw that the Veela was being serious. Glancing back at Lucius and Severus, he noticed the same looks on their faces. He gripped the back of the armchair tightly and started to shake his head.

"No. No. You're wrong," he murmured, eyes staring off into the distance.

"I know this seems really out there, but you need to trust me," Draco said.

Harry continued to mouth the words silently. Concerned, Severus knelt down in front of Harry and reaching up, gently grabbed the boy's chin. He slowly turned the boy's face to look at him.

"Harry?" he asked, recognizing the blank stare of shock.

Sighing, Severus said, "He's retreated into his mind. This is going to take me a minute, but I think I'll be able to get him out."

"If you're sure," Draco replied, concerned.

Severus nodded.

"Legilimens."

Lucius and Draco watched anxiously as their family friend descended into Harry's mind. Draco was fidgeting and his father was too distracted to correct him.

A few minutes later, Severus returned from Harry's mind, a little shaken.

"He is wearing a very strong physical and mental glamor," he said slowly.

"A mental glamour? I've never heard of that," Lucius said, frowning.

"It's not something that many people are aware of. It works the same as a physical glamor, covering up someone's appearance, but in this case, it works on memories. Essentially, it is like a mental block. There are some horrible side effects though," Severus explained.

"Which are?" Draco prompted.

"Frequent nightmares, inability to fall asleep during the day, and sometimes even insomnia. As well, the blocked memories surface as soon as the sun goes down," Severus murmured.

Shocked, Draco glanced down at his little mate. He whined pitifully, his fingers digging into Harry's shoulder.

"Is there any way to get rid of it?" Lucius asked.

"Yes, but it'll take a lot of work. As far as I can tell, Harry has had it since shortly after coming to Hogwarts. He cast it himself as well, a feat for a first year," Severus said.

"But there's another complication, isn't there?" Lucius murmured.

Severus nodded slowly. "Because it was cast by someone so young, the organization is very messy. That's probably why he hasn't been able to focus in classes. His mental state would have been under extreme stress even if the glamor had been orderly."

"So it's like a maze with a lot of dead ends and such?" Draco asked.

"You would think that, but no. It's more like a landfill with lots of things piled up on top of each other."

"A landfill?"

"Muggle thing. This will take me a while to do so we might want to give him a Dreamless Sleep Potion. That way his mental barriers will be weaker and he won't awaken in the middle of my work."

Lucius nodded and Severus summoned a potion from his personal stores. Tipping Harry's head back, he held the boy's mouth open belong enough to feed it to him. As the liquid slid into his stomach, the Gryffindor coughed a little, but managed to keep all of it down.

The three Slytherins watched as Harry's eyes slowly drifted closed and he settled against the back of the chair, asleep. Draco lifted him up as the Room of Requirement summoned their next need: a soft bed. The bedding was red and silver, an odd combination, but no one mentioned it aloud. Setting his mate under the covers, Draco pulled a chair over to sit next to Severus as he started to work.

"Legilimens."

* * *

Harry's mind was a mess, just as Severus had seen the first time. Piles upon piles of pictures, objects, and other assorted things were littered around the black surface of his brain. Just from where he was standing, Severus could make out a few of the moving images of the photos. Almost all of them were either happy memories or recent ones. The connection factor however was that they were all from his time at Hogwarts. Severus easily recognized the castle's walls, classrooms, and landscape in the backgrounds.

Walking over to the first pile, Severus started to pull out as many things as he could. In the first layer that he went though, he found a miniature version of the Philosopher's Stone, several pictures of Harry and his friends from First Year, and even a snitch. However, it didn't take long for Severus to discover the horrors that lived below the surface.

It took only half an hour of digging through happiness to find the less than charming side of Harry's life. Dark tendrils of shadows burst out through the hole he'd made in the glamor, engulfing him. Severus let out a cry as he was pulled into the memories

He blinked a few times, trying to clear the darkness form his vision. No matter how many times he tired, it stayed. Grumbling to himself, he tried to shift his body. He was kneeling on a hard floor, wood he supposed. The air around him was heavy and humid and he could feel that he was trapped in a narrow space.

Suddenly, his arm bumped something with skin and he leapt back only to run into a wall. Hissing at his stupidity, he snuck towards the other person and reached out. His hand made contact, but the other person didn't stir. Frowning, Severus lifted his hand to the thick hair that he had brushed when he'd hit the person the first time.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The other person didn't reply, but, by estimating the person's size, Severus could guess it was a child no more than probably three or four years of age.

Light flooded the small space as a tiny door was flung open and the child was pulled out of the cupboard. A giant man lifted the tiny child up and bore down on him, their faces inches from each other.

"Listen to me, freak. Be good and don't you dare screw anything up. No burning the food, no noise, nothing! Got it?" the fat man snarled.

The black-haired boy nodded fiercely and the fat man threw him down onto the floor before he stormed away. Severus crawled forward just in time to see the boy get up and dust himself off a little. His eyes widened as he slipped out of the cupboard under the stairs, staring at the boy.

Tired green eyes flicked towards the door behind Severus as the young Harry silently closed the cupboard door. Severus opened his mouth to speak, but didn't when Harry sighed and turned away. Following the young boy into the kitchen, Severus watched as he took a stool from the pantry and set it up in front of the stove. Clambering up onto it, Harry climbed up onto the counter and opened one of the cabinet doors. Retrieving a pot and a saucepan, he set them carefully on the stove before climbing down.

"Harry?" Severus asked the boy as he jogged past.

Running back to the pantry, the tiny child got a package of noodles and a jar of spaghetti sauce. He carefully closed the pantry door and carried the food back to the stove. Setting the box and jar on the counter, Harry climbed back up onto his stool and started to fill the pot with water in the sink next to the stove.

Slowly, Severus reached out and laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. Harry didn't even stir, continuing about his work. Frowning, Severus withdrew his hand and sat back against the table to watch. It seemed to him that he could feel Harry, but that Harry –or anyone else in the memory probably- couldn't.

The small child was halfway done with the noodles when the fat man came lumbering into the room. He threw the boy a glare before he pushed the child against the pot. The boy recoiled when his hand touched the side of the pot, holding the slightly burned appendage against his body.

"Hurry up! They'll be here soon," the fat man growled at the terrified child.

Turning back to the food, Harry quickly set to starting the sauce. Severus watched in horror as the boy made the entire dinner by himself. He seemed experienced at it too, never burning himself apart from the time his uncle had pushed him.

When it was done, the boy retrieved five plates and set the table. In a whirl, the woman that Severus quickly recognized at Petunia Evans came into the kitchen and grabbed Harry by the back of the collar.

"Into your cupboard and don't you dare make a sound," she barked, throwing the boy towards the doorway.

Scrambling up, Harry left the kitchen, Severus following. He watched the boy as he silently got into the cupboard and closed the door. Petunia was not far behind, sliding the bolt into the latch.

'They locked him in? Shit,' Severus thought as the doorbell rang.

Petunia traipsed to the door and opened it with a wide smile.

"Mr. and Mrs. Francis, it is lovely to see you again," she said sweetly as a man and his wife stepped inside.

"Hello Mrs. Dursley," the other woman replied.

"Smells good. What is for dinner?" Mr. Francis asked, sniffing the air.

"Ah, it is my special spaghetti," Petunia laughed as Severus's eyes widened further. "It is nothing fancy, I will tell you, but it is the best."

"Sounds wonderful," Mrs. Francis said.

"Mummy, I'm hungry," a fat boy called as he descended the stairs.

"Dinner will be soon, Dudley," Petunia replied.

Severus watched them from the hallway as the family of three and their two guests ate dinner. Not a sound came from the locked cupboard throughout the Francis' visit, a fact that bit into Severus's core. Clearly, Harry was used to it if a child of his age could be this quiet for this long.

Finally, the Francis' left. The moment that the car could be heard leaving the driveway, the fat man, who Severus assumed to be Harry's uncle, Vernon, lumbered to the cupboard and threw it open. Harry looked up, his green eyes void of emotion. A giant hand reached in and grabbed him, dragging the small child from the cupboard.

"Come on boy," Vernon sneered. "Time for your medicine."

Severus's frown became more deep set as he followed the nephew and uncle through the house. Coming to Vernon's study, he just managed to get inside before the fat man closed the door. Harry was standing in the middle of the room, quickly pulling off the dirty flannel shirt that he wore. Vernon went over to the desk and unlocked one of the drawers. Pulling out an old leather belt, he tested the strength of it and smiled. Severus could see the dried blood that crusted the metal buckle and the length of the leather.

"Stay still and don't make a sound," Vernon smirked at his nephew.

Harry tried to relax as his uncle came up behind him, raising the belt. The buckle slammed onto his back, cutting the already scarred skin. Setting his jaw, Harry fought down a scream as the belt came down on him again and again. Holding a hand up to his mouth, Severus watched sadly as the boy was beat.

"Freak! Why won't you die yet? You've been with us for seven years, seven years too long!" his uncle hissed.

'Seven years? He's eight?' Severus wondered. Harry certaintly didn't look eight. He appeared to be about half his age, his height barely up to Severus's elbow. As he looked closer, however, Severus could see that the boy was starting to lose some of the baby fat around his face, although he wasn't sure if that was due to the malnutrition the boy was experiencing or him aging.

When it was over, Vernon locked the belt away and gave the boy of disgusted glance.

"Clean it up," he snarled as he left the room.

The small child collapsed as soon as the door closed. Coughing softly, he pushed himself up on shaking arms and grabbed his shirt. Pulling it on, he carefully set the fabric across his back before going to get a towel from the kitchen.

Severus stared at nothing as the memory faded away. The shear horror of it had silenced him, he who had an answer for everything.

Just as he started to collect himself, another memory roared to life, followed by another, and another and another, each as gruesome as the last. By the time that Severus got through the first pile of memories, the first eleven years, he had been reduced to tears.

* * *

A/N: So Sev is the first to know. Want more? Review please! I greatly appreciate them.


	12. Chapter 11: Horror

Chapter 11: Horror

Draco and Lucius exchanged a glance as they stared at their long-time family friend. As soon as Severus had come back to himself, he'd promptly thrown himself into a chair and his head had dropped into his hands. He hadn't moved in over five minutes, silent as a body buried in the grave.

"Severus?" Lucius asked slowly.

A groan rose from the dungeon bat as he finally sat up. His eyes were teary, although he'd managed to keep them from running down his face, and starting to turn red. His cheeks were flushed, but the remainder of his face was even paler than normal.

"Uncle Sev?" Draco whispered.

"It was fucking awful," Severus murmured, slumping back in his chair.

"What was? What's wrong? What happened? What-"

"-Draco, calm down!" Lucius shouted. "Severus, please explain."

"You remember what my childhood was like, right Lucius?" Severus asked.

The elder Malfoy nodded.

"Harry's was… Merlin, I don't even know how to describe it. A hundred times worse? A thousand? A million? I don't even know if I can quantify it," the Potions Master murmured.

"Severus, what happened to him that was so horrible?" Lucius asked slowly.

Covering his eyes with his hand, Severus rubbed his face in an effort to calm himself. Suddenly, his hand dropped to his side and he launched up out of his hair. He started to pace, his robes billowing menacingly as his anger only grew. The fire in the grate flickered and crackled loudly in response to the rise in Severus's magic. Both Draco and Lucius took a step back from their old friend, unused to seeing him loose any sort of control. The dungeon bat stopped in the middle of the room and motioned to the two Malfoys, leading them into the parlor. He closed the door to the bedroom before turning to look at Lucius and his son.

"Beatings, starving, slander, imprisonment, rape; take your pick Lucius, he's been through it all," Severus hissed angrily, a strange fire building in his dark eyes.

"Wait, ra-"

"Yes, Draco, and do you want to know who did it?"

"Who in the seven hells fucking did that to-"

"-A man by the name of Vernon Dursley."

Lucius and Draco exchanged a glance.

"Who?" they both said at the same time.

"A muggle," Severus explained. "His only claim to any sort of fame is that he is married to Petunia Dursley, whose sister was a certain witch by the name of Lily Potter."

"His fucking uncle!" Draco screeched.

"Afraid so," Severus growled.

"But, wouldn't-"

"-I know that Albus is the one who put him there," the Potions Master said as he resumed his pacing. "The old man had assured me multiple times that he had someone checking on Harry, but clearly he was lying to me. I believed him."

He stopped once again, his eyes widening. "Oh God, I remember now."

"What?" Draco asked, his voice cracking in pain and sadness.

"When Harry first came to school here, I remembering thinking that something was wrong with him. He was so quiet, timid. He flinched whenever anyone came near him. Even his smile was fake," Severus murmured more to himself than anyone else in the room.

"You noticed? Why-"

"-Draco!"

"It's fine, Lucius. He has a reason to ask. The truth was that I pushed it aside. I didn't want to believe that anything had happened," Severus moaned in emotional pain.

Draco fell into the chair behind him, pulling his knees up to his chest. His bright eyes stared blankly at the floor in front of him. Inside, his Veela was howling and growling for revenge, squirming to be free of his human restraints. His teeth were clenched and his fingers curling into tight fists in his lap. The air around him cooled significantly as his shock grew into rage.

"Where do the fuckers live?" he snarled.

"Draco, now is not the time to go rushing off. Harry will need us all there when he wakes up," Severus said, throwing a harsh glare at his godson. "He'll know that I know and more likely than not, it will terrify him. If he's kept it a secret for this long, there is no way that he will take my knowing lightly."

Biting into the flesh of his cheek, Draco reluctantly nodded. Uncurling his fingers, he slowly sat up in his chair, digging the nails into his thighs.

"Okay," he said slowly, "But when this is all over, I want a shot at them first."

"Which you are entitled as a Veela mate," Lucius replied.

Draco was about to nod again when his sensitive hearing picked up on something. He glanced at the door to the bedroom before he leapt up out of his chair and raced to the door. Sliding across the floor, he threw his hands out to keep himself from running into it. One palm slammed harshly against the wood and he heard a soft growl from behind it. Taking a deep breath, Draco slowly and quietly opened the door, poking his head in.

Harry was sitting up in bed, the blanket pulled tightly around him and over his head. He was shivering and in the darkness caused by the thick blanket, Draco could just see his green eyes. They were wide, cautious, and slightly untrusting as Draco slipped into the room.

"Harry?" he quietly asked, approaching the bed.

His mate stared up at him, hissing something softly. Draco stopped instantly, trying not to draw away. The hissing and spitting continued for a moment, until Harry tipped back his head a little and let the blanket fall from his body. Crouching on the bed, the small Gryffindor, as slowly as he could, inched towards Draco on all fours. A shiver ran up his spine from the cool air, but his entire attention was focused on the Veela.

"I won't hurt you, I promise," Draco murmured as he took a small step.

"But you know now," Harry replied, eyes still wide.

Sighing sadly, Draco sat on the very end of the bed, keeping his gaze locked with his mate's. He carefully maneuvered his body onto the bed, crossing his legs. When Harry was only a foot away, he stretched his arms out to his smaller mate. Harry hesitated, but conceded and slipped into Draco's embrace. Pulling him close, Draco lay back on the bed, keeping Harry clutched to his chest. The Gryffindor whimpered a little, but didn't speak.

"You're safe, Harry," Draco whispered in his ear.

He repeated the same words over and over again, trying to convince his scared mate. The boy's shivers eventually subsided and his breathing evened out to a normal level. At one point, Lucius and Severus had come into the room, but the tired, frazzled mates didn't notice. They sat beside Draco and Harry, rubbing careful circles on the black-haired Gryffindor's back. He hissed softly, but it was in happiness instead of anger, and snuggled into Draco's chest. The Veela in Draco purred at the close presence of his mate.

"I hate them," Harry said finally.

"Who, love?"

"All of them. They all lied to me." Curling up into a tight ball, Harry started to shiver again. "It hurts, Draco."

"Shh," Draco murmured, quieting his mate. "You'll be free of them all soon, all of the liars."

"Everything hurts. My heart, my head, my body. Something feels wrong with it," Harry murmured.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Lucius asked.

"I feel like I'm living in the wrong body. Whenever I look at anything, it seems like I'm wearing really narrow glasses. Only some things are clear, the rest is blurry. Sometimes, I feel a strange weight in my hair, like something is hanging in it, but when I touch it, nothing is there," Harry said. "Draco, where is Edda?"

"Edda is in his chambers, you know that."

"Oh yeah." Sighing, Harry continued, "I wish he was here. It helps."

Draco exchanged a glance with his father and godfather.

"Let's go find him then," he said.

He nodded once to them and slowly rotated so his feet hung off the bed of the bed. Keeping a tight grip on Harry, the Veela stood and repositioned his mate in his arms. Severus cast a quiet notice-me-not charm on them as the two mates left the bedroom, heading for the door.

Dumbledore sat at his desk, staring at the small bottle that sat on the wooden surface. He was smiling a little, his hands clasped together in front of the face to hide it. His twinkling eyes were sharply focused as he slowly reached out and grabbed the bottle, watching as the potion inside splashed around. Holding it up to the light, he inspected the thick liquid.

"Very nice," he murmured to himself as he sat it back down.

Getting up from his chair, he swept around to the large bookshelves that lined the back of the room. He pulled a thick, old book from a high shelf and carefully carried it to his desk. Gently settling it down, he opened it to a page at the back. A loose piece of paper that had been ripped out of another book fluttered a little as he passed it, falling from the book to the floor. Ignoring it in favor of his current train of thought, Dumbledore quickly read the instructions and, with the potion in hand, stepped over to his Pensieve. Pouring the thick liquid into the silvery water, he smirked and capped the bottle again.

Slamming the empty bottle on his desk, he took his seat again. Sitting back in the chair, his eyes flicked up to the door. His plan was in place. All he needed now was the intended victim.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this is so short. A lot will happen in the next chapter, I promise.


	13. Chapter 12: Encounter in the Owlry

**A/N: I'm so sorry that this took so long! I've had severe writer's block with this story and have been focusing on some of my others to get rid of it. Hopefully this one won't be too short, but it is a temporary bandaid until I can really start to work on this again on a regular basis. That should be soon, since I'll be finishing one of my anime fics soon. REMINDER: READ, REVIEW, AND REPEAT (WITH MY OTHER STORIES).**

**Peace.**

* * *

Chapter 12: Encounter in the Owlry

Some time after midnight, Draco and Harry snuck into the Slytherin dorms. The protective Veela wasn't about to let his mate around anyone he didn't fully trust, even if they had been Harry's friends for years. He just couldn't after what had been divulged to him earlier that night.

Curled up in bed together, the two boys didn't speak or sleep. They lay content and safe, the curtains of Draco's bed pulled closed and locked with a charm. When Draco's roommates started to stir the following morning, the pair of mates waited in silence, listening to the other boys grumble sleepily at each other. Harry had to hold back a laugh when he heard Blaise Zambini slip on a sock that had been carelessly tossed on the floor and fell with a hard bang.

When they were finally gone, Draco sat up, pulling Harry into his lap. The smaller boy snuggled into his mate's side, his eyes finally fluttering closed. Having both been excused from classes for the entire rest of the day by Snape with the excuse of needing "a long detention in which to reflect on their actions", Draco watched his mate sleep, a book propped open against one leg.

Harry finally woke around one in the afternoon, groggy and rubbing at his eyes. Draco was finishing homework beside him, his attention only diverting away from his work when he felt his mate move. Setting aside the open bottle of ink, the quill, and parchment, Draco crawled over his the small Gryffindor, settling beside him.

"You were asleep for about seven hours," Draco said as Harry sat up. "Hungry?"

"Not really," Harry sighed. "My appetite is still small, no matter if I tell people about the starvation or not."

Draco sighed sadly. "I wish it wasn't so."

"Well, there isn't much to be done except time," Harry said. "By the time I have to go back, I can eat about three quarters of what a normal person can."

"That's not nearly enough," Draco snarled.

"Calm down, Draco. No one's going to die," the Gryffindor laughed.

"Those pathetic wastes called your aunt and uncle will be soon if I have my way," Draco spat.

Harry grinned. "Spoiled brat," he teased. "Just don't go after my cousin, alright? He helped me a lot the past few years."

"I won't hurt anyone who has helped you, my mate," Draco agreed.

"Good," Harry said as he pulled back the covers, slipping out from under them.

Crossing his legs, he glanced over at the blond, nervousness suddenly creeping in. He had taken to the idea of being Draco's mate quite easily. It didn't help that the other boy was beautiful, but Harry himself was even surprised at how easily he accepted it. Pushing the thought away, Harry met Draco's unwavering gaze. They both blushed a little, eyes dropping to the bed spread around them.

"So, did you sleep well?" Draco mumbled.

"Yeah," Harry quietly replied. "Thank you for asking."

"You're welcome."

After a few moments of awkward silence, Harry asked, "What are we going to do today?"

"I don't know really. It's rare for Uncle Sev to give anyone a day off, even among his Slytherins," Draco mused.

"I find it funny that you call 'Uncle Sev,'" Harry laughed.

"Well he is my Godfather."

"But I didn't call Sirius by the title of Uncle."

Draco rolled his eyes at the mention of the dog animagus. "Either way, we should probably think of something to do. Most of my roommates return to the dorms for a short while after lunch and we don't want them to find you here."

"No," Harry said softly. Suddenly, a bright idea popped into his mind. "Hey, do you want to see something really cool?"

* * *

Draco ran after Harry, panting as they dashed through the halls. Harry was out in front, grinning widely. Noticing that they were heading to the Owlry, Draco picked up speed, keeping pace with his mate. They raced up the stairs, stopping only when they'd come to the tower at the top.

Harry walked over to one of the open windows, petting his white familiar along the way. Leaning slightly out the window, he whistled loudly. Draco frowned and walked over to stand behind his mate. Harry listened closely for a reply and his grin grew larger as a loud caw came from far off in the distance.

Draco's mouth dropped open as a bright red bird came streaking towards them, its vermillion feathering shining in the light. The giant bird settled on the ledge of the window, glancing up at Harry.

"This is Fawkes," Harry said. "Fawkes, this is Draco, my mate."

"But Harry, isn't this Dumbledore's familiar?" Draco asked.

The phoenix chirped loudly, nipping at Draco in anger. Harry laughed.

"Fawkes has been with the old bastard for a long time, it is true, but Fawkes has grown distant from him in the past few years," the Gryffindor explained, petting the bird's long vermillion feathers.

"So trusting, but how can you be sure? Familiars are usually very attached to their masters."

As if to prove his point, Hedwig floated down onto Harry's shoulder, her talons gripping the boy carefully. The white owl eyed Fawkes with interest, nipping playfully at him as the phoenix did the same.

"What do you know of the incident during Second Year?" Harry asked.

"There's a rumor that you killed the beast that was petrifying everyone," Draco said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"It was Fawkes that brought me the Sorting Hat and the Sword of Gryffindor so I could defeat the monster," Harry replied.

Draco stared at his mate in shock. He really killed the beast that was stalking the halls of Hogwarts in their second year? It was surprising until he really thought about it. Trouble followed his little mate everywhere, after all.

Huffing, he lazily scratched the back of his head. "Only you would be able to draw a phoenix familiar away from its master."

Chuckling softly, Harry gently petted Fawkes's head, the bird cawing softly. Hearing footsteps coming from the stairs, the Gryffindor shooed the phoenix away, watching for a moment as it flew. He and Draco both turned to face the stairs, frowning when they saw whom it was.

"Ah, Harry! Just the person I was looking for," Dumbledore cried, an odd shine to his eye as he stepped into the Owlry.

"Oh, hello Professor," Harry said quietly, a small shiver running up his spine.

"I hope that your day is going well," the Headmaster said.

"Yes it is, Sir," Draco replied sharply.

Ignoring the Malfoy, the Headmaster stared at Harry. "May I have a word with you, my boy?"

"You can just talk to me here, Sir," Harry said, starting to feel nervous.

"Nonsense, I'm sure that Mr. Malfoy here wouldn't be interested. It's a mere check up to make sure that you're doing well."

Harry gritted his teeth. "I'm fine, Sir. If you have something to ask me, I don't see why Draco can't be here."

Dumbledore's eyes hardened for a moment before the look disappeared behind the familiar twinkle again.

"If you so wish it, my boy. As I said, I just merely wanted to check on you. With the whole mess at the Ministry, I felt it was duty to make you that you were alright."

"I'm fine, Sir. If you'll please excuse us, Sir, we're going to be late for Potions," Harry ground out.

"Ah, yes. Go! Go! We don't want Professor Snape to get too angry, do we?"

Harry grabbed Draco's hand, dragging him away as they fled from the tower. Hard, gray eyes followed them as they retreated, narrowing in a mixture of anger and suspicion.

"What the hell was that?" Draco asked as they finally skidded to a stop outside the entrance to the dungeons.

"Dumbledore has been avoiding me most of the time ever since the Triwizard Tournament. Why would he just randomly ask me to his office now? Think Draco!" Harry hissed.

"He wants to get you alone," Draco murmured, eyes widening.

Harry nodded. "He's trying to do something. I swear, I can feel it in my bones. He's seems so… slimy and gross now."

Walking over to his mate, Draco embraced him, pulling Harry against his chest. "Just ignore it. We'll find a way to keep Dumbledore away from you. He won't suspect anything is wrong."

* * *

Having returned to his tower, Dumbledore calmly closed the door of his office behind him. He studied the room surrounding him: the ornate chairs, the Persian rugs, the books, and the portraits containing past Headmasters. He sneered at it all, his wealth, his power. Without Potter, it was all for naught.

He picked up a heavy book that lay on the edge of his desk, hurling it at the globe model that sat in the far room. The fragile ancient object smashed as the wind in the room started to pick up, signaling his raging anger. Bottles of potions, magical objects, and books flew around him in a tempest, raging like a hurricane. The portraits on the walls protested, but Dumbledore didn't hear them.

Clenching his teeth, he finally regained a hold on his magic, snapping it back under his control. Everything fell instantly to the ground, landing in a chorus of hard thuds. Panting from exertion, Dumbledore grabbed his wand and flicked it. The books, the magical objects, and the bottles of potions returned to their correct place as the portraits finally quieted.

Throwing himself in the chair behind his desk, the Headmaster took a deep breath to study himself.

"Damn boy. He should have just come with me. It would have made things so much easier," he muttered to himself.


	14. Chapter 13: Sinister Goings On

A/N: I know it has been forever and I apologize. School got really busy towards the end of the semester and to tell you the truth, I have some severe writer's block on this story. So, I have decided to rush the ending faster than planned. I know that I'll start to get bored with this story if I let it linger any longer and I'd rather finish it quickly than let it languish in limbo forever. As such, here is a new chapter. Sorry if it seems rushed cause well... it is! The ending chapters will be great though, I promise! Anyway, Read, Review, Repeat!

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Chapter 13: Sinister Goings On

Severus snarled something under his breath as he stormed through the halls. The Headmaster had called him to his office in the middle of a class, something that was unheard of. He had even argued with the Headmaster in front of the students, he was so angry. The man thought that Severus was at his beck and call, like a dog. Foolish bastard.

Approaching the gargoyle, the Potions Master snapped the password. As it leapt aside, he stomped up the stairs, ignoring the sound of shifting stone as the entrance closed behind him. By the time he reached the door, he was even angrier than before, having worked himself up into a fury. Throwing open the door to the office, he slammed it behind him.

Dumbledore looked up at him with that signature twinkling smile. He was sitting behind his desk, scribbling something on a sheet of paper. Fawkes sat on his perch next to the desk, ruffling his gold and red feathers.

"Ah, Severus my boy," the Headmaster said, motioning to one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"What do you want, Headmaster?" the Potions Master asked, waving his hand to reject the offer.

"No need to be so callus, Severus," the old man laughed as he sat back in his chair. "I simply wanted your opinion on something."

"I was in the middle of teaching a class, Headmaster," Severus snarled.

"You wound me, my dear boy. I wouldn't have called you away from class if it wasn't important. Don't you know that?"

Severus scowled and rolled his eyes. "Well, what is it?"

"It concerns our dear Harry."

Severus's ears pricked up at the name.

"Potter? What about him?"

"I am worried about him. He seems so distant lately, distracted even. I'm concerned that something is wrong."

Biting back a stinging retort, Severus sighed and shook his head. "You never know with Potter. He seems to get upset over the smallest things."

Albus fixed him with a smirking look. Severus almost growled when he saw that twinkle back in his eyes.

"Severus, I know that you do not really enjoy the boy but-"

"I refuse, Headmaster. That little brat isn't even worth my attention," Severus snarled.

Severus hated having to say such harsh things about the teen he had grown to cherish in the past few days. Beyond being Draco's mate, Harry was sweeter than he could have ever imagined. How the boy still could love people after what had happened was beyond him. Severus had been through a similar situation, but look how he had turned out: sarcastic, sour, and harsh.

"I just need someone to look after the boy and make sure he isn't doing something drastic! With Sirius's death, he could be in mourning still, but I want to be sure that it isn't something bigger!" Albus protested.

"Have Minerva do it. He's in her house, not me!" Severus replied.

"Oh Severus, you know that I can't have Minerva suddenly following Harry around. He'd be suspicious in a moment. I don't want him to misunderstand and think that there is something sinister afoot," Albus laughed.

_Even though there most assuredly is?_ Severus asked himself.

"Fine Albus," Severus sighed, crossing his arms across his chest, "But I will not pretend to be happy about this."

Albus grinned, his white teeth dazzling. "I wouldn't expect anything else from you, Severus."

As the Potions Master stalked out of the office, his smirk faded into a frown. He was asking himself a million questions although the more he thought about it the less he was surprised by the Headmaster. Slipping into the shadows of the corridor, he quickly strode towards the dungeon where he knew that Lucius would be waiting for him. With each step, his anger grew, but he kept it at bay. It wouldn't do him well to get angry now.

Reaching the portrait that guarded his quarters, he muttered the password and watched as the portrait swung open. Hurrying through the passage behind it, he quickly stepped into the warmth of the parlor. Lucius turned to look at him from the chair he sat in before the fire. The blond frowned and stopped swinging his black cane.

"Is something wrong, Severus?" Lucius asked.

"Albus is up to something," the Potions Master snarled as he threw himself in the chair beside his best friend.

"That's nothing new," Lucius drawled.

"This rings of something sinister, Lucius. The old man has asked me to spy on Harry for him," Severus spat.

"What? Why?" the blond asked, his look stoic.

"He said something about being concerned and that he didn't want Harry to do something drastic."

Lucius sat back in his chair, thinking.

"If it had come from anyone other than Albus, I would have believed it," he said slowly.

Suddenly, both Severus and Lucius seized up in pain and grabbed their forearms, bristling as the burn raced over their skin. They exchanged a glance and a frown. There wasn't a meeting scheduled for today; why was the Dark Lord calling?

* * *

Harry stood in front of the large wooden door, trying hard to regain control of his breathing. The door towered over him, dwarfing his tiny figure. He shivered a little as he slowly reached out and pulled the door open. The hot, pungent smell of old books and ash filled his nose as he stepped into the office. Harry shuddered and jumped as the door slammed behind him.

He had gotten a note from the Headmaster earlier that morning, telling him to meet Dumbledore in his office. Harry hadn't wanted to go, but when he'd gone to find Draco, Severus, or even Lucius, he couldn't find them. Feeling obligated, he had decided to meet Dumbledore as requested. The man really wouldn't hurt him while he was at school; would he?

The creaking of a chair drew his attention to the corner of the room. Dumbledore stood up, smiling at him.

"Ah Harry!" the Headmaster cried, stretching out his arms to him, "It's wonderful to see you!"

"You too Headmaster," Harry lied, forcing a small smile. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

A shiver ran up Harry's spine as the Headmaster motioned towards the chair on the other side of his desk. Harry slowly walked over and took a seat as Dumbledore took the chair across from him. Folding his hands, Dumbledore stared at him over the tops of his spectacles, a strong twinkle shining on his eyes.

"Are you alright, my boy? I know that Sirius's death was hard on you," Dumbledore said.

"Uh, I'm good, Sir," Harry stuttered.

"Really? Are you? I've heard from a few of your professors that you seem distant lately in classes," Dumbledore said.

Liar.

"Oh, I hadn't noticed.

"That is probably why they call it spacing out, my dear boy."

"No, nothing's wrong sir. I guess I've just been thinking too much lately."

"It would seem that way."

Harry's eyes started to droop and he shook his head a little to keep his eyes open. He frowned, suddenly feeling very tired. Dumbledore kept smiling at him, his grin wide. Getting suspicious, Harry tried to stand, but found himself unable to lift even his arms. He started to panic when a warm and calming feeling filled him, spreading into his brain. His sight started to cloud as his eyes narrowed even more, the sleepiness spreading to every part of his body.

"Sir, what's going on?" Harry slowly asked.

"My boy, you look tired. It's probably from so much stress," Dumbledore replied.

Slowly, Harry shook his head. His head was fuzzy; something was wrong.

"No sir, something's really wrong," he protested.

"Just close your eyes for a moment, Harry. I'm sure it will go away," Dumbledore said.

Sliding down in his seat, Harry's eyes finally closed, his head tipping to rest against the back of the chair. In a moment of half-summoned desperation, he tried to call out to Edda. He smiled a little when he felt the comforting warmth of his friend's mental reply before he quickly descended into sleep.

* * *

Dumbledore's grin quickly grew into a look of unbridled joy when the Boy-Who-Lived finally slipped into sleep. Practically jumping out of his chair, he raced around to the other side of the desk, Fawkes tweeting angrily from his perch. Levitating Harry out of the chair, he carried the boy over to a hidden door in the wall that led to his private sitting room. Whispering the password, he led the floating boy inside.

The room was well lit with the day's sun, although the window –and by the room- were both invisible if someone had been looking at the exterior of the castle. A chair and a small couch were set before an empty fireplace. More bookshelves lined the walls, just like his office, but they were filled with tomes of a less reputable nature. Dark spells, charms, and terrible curses were detailed in the pages, as well as their uses.

Setting the boy on the couch, Dumbledore walked over to the shelves and pulled one of the older books off of the shelf. It was the same book that he had been looking through only a couple of days earlier. Hidden in the center of the book was a ripped page. Holding it up, he read the instructions, his grin widening gleefully.

A loud explosion tore his attention away from the book and he raced to the window. He gasped when he saw a row of black figures walking through the front gates of the school grounds, throwing curses and shouting. The school's wards screamed as they collapsed and fell, allowing the approaching Death Eaters to advance even further. Spotting an unusually pale figure at the front of the herd of black figures, Dumbledore swore and raced from the room, making sure to lock it behind him. Voldemort was attacking the school.

* * *

Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review no matter what your opinion is! Reviews make the fanfiction writing world go round!


	15. Chapter 14: The Stryder Elves

**A/N: I know its been a while and I'm sorry. Writer's Block+College=Disaster for Ongoing Stories. But this chapter is packed full of fun information and guess what? We get to officially meet Edda! Also, there is a surprise at the end you may like. We have over 230 reviews! Let's make it to 250! REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

* * *

Chapter 14: The Stryder Elves

"Students please return to your dorm rooms! Do not be alarmed! Teachers report to the Great Hall! I repeat, do not be alarmed!"

Draco pushed through the crowd of students rushing through the halls towards their towers or the dungeons. He stumbled as Colin Creevey and his brother barreled into him, hitting the wall hard. He could tell that his shoulder was going to be heavily bruised later, but he was in too much of a rush for that.

"Malfoy, where are you going? The dungeons are that way!" a fellow Slytherin called.

"I'll be there in a minute! I need to find someone!" Draco shouted back, pushing an older Hufflepuff out of the way.

He was going too slow for Draco's taste. Ducking under another Hufflepuff's angry swing, Draco dashed forward and slid through an opening between two Ravenclaws. Before he could feel proud of himself though, he took off up a nearly empty staircase.

On the third floor, he spotted his father.

"Draco!" Lucius called out of him, rushing towards his son in a surprisingly dignified way.

"Have you found him?" Draco asked, panting slightly.

"No," Lucius replied, shaking his head. "He might have gone back to Gryffindor Tower already."

"He's not with Granger, Longbottom, or any of the others! He wasn't even in his last class. I checked!" Draco shouted. "Fuck!"

"Calm down Draco. We need to think logically about this," the Malfoy patriarch snapped, brushing his long blond strands of hair out of his face. "Have you talked to Severus?"

"Maybe half an hour before the explosion. He went looking in the upper floors and the Astronomy Tower."

"Crazy bastard. There is an explosion that rocks the school and he automatically goes to the places where he's most likely to fall to his death. Especially with his dislike for flying."

Draco nearly rolled his eyes. "Focus Father! My mate is missing, the Dark Lord is attacking, and Dumbledore is somewhere around here!"

"Right you are. Head back to the dorms," Lucius said. "I'll find Severus and we'll keep searching."

"I won't go to safety without my mate!" Draco cried.

"Then go check the lower floors again! Maybe you missed him in the crowd," Lucius snarled. "Go!"

* * *

As he watched Draco go scampering off in the direction from which he'd come, Lucius sighed and glanced down at his arm. The Mark was burning fiercely, his entire arm shaking from the fierce hate that radiated through it. Gritting his teeth as a tremor as strong as a _Crucio_ and as painful ripped through him. The Dark Lord was calling and he refused to answer.

Spinning on his heel, he dashed up the stairs in hope of finding Severus. He searched through several corridors and was forced to stop at least twice in each one from the pain in his arm. By the time he'd looked through the entire fifth floor, he was prepared to hex off his arm with a cutting spell.

The pressure inside him, his magic, kept building and building from the continued pain. His teeth clenched tighter as it welled up inside him, pressing against his heart, his lungs, and every other organ in his body. His ears popped and he could feel pressure behind his eyes. His sight dulled then focused again before once again becoming cloudy.

Finally, he collapsed in the middle of the corridor on the sixth floor, just by the entrance to the Astronomy Tower. He clutched at his arm as his Veela instincts rose up inside him to fight the pressure. Letting out a high-pitched screech, he clawed at his forearm, cutting through the skin. Blood spilled freely from the open wounds as the pressure rose and rose and rose.

Lucius felt something crack and explode inside him and everything went still. He felt like he was floating in midair, weightless and boneless. Silence filled his ears until a quiet hum rocketed against his eardrum, quickly bringing him back to complete consciousness. His slight sharped with a snap and he felt the magic that tied him to his wife collapse into nothingness.

Drawing a breath like he'd never taken one before, the patriarch nearly started to cry. The somewhat painful tie was gone. His horrid wife could never approach him again. He shut his eyes to savor the moment, ignoring the pain that still remained in his arm as he steadied himself. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled slowly.

Suddenly, a scent, so faint, but so profound, hit his senses and his eyes snapped open. The silver irises seemed to dance as Lucius's entire body jerked. He spun around, staring out the large window at the far end of the corridor. Dashing towards it, he skidded to a stop just before the glass, pressing his hands up against it.

The window overlooked the Quiddich Pitch and the land that stretched towards the Forbidden Forest. He took another breath, slow and deep, and jerked again when the scent hit his senses. On the edge of the forest, he could make out a giant figure moving in the direction of the school.

"Lucius?" Severus asked from behind him.

"Of all the days in my life, this couldn't have come at a worse time."

He could feel dark eyes boring into his back, but he ignored him. His entire being was focused on that scent. He couldn't even feel the blood dripping from his now blank forearm.

The blond started to snicker quietly, his shoulder shaking. It rose into a loud ring of laughter the likes of which Severus had never heard from his friend. He watched as Lucius sunk to the floor, hands still flat against the glass. The Potions Master jerked as a howl filled the air, faint through the window, but still there. Lucius grinned widely as the dark figure below reached the pitch and disappeared behind its high walls.

"What the hell was that?" the Potions Master asked.

"My mate," Lucius snickered. "It seems he can be scary sometimes."

* * *

Harry's eyes snapped open as another explosion rocked the school. He quickly sat up, rubbing his forehead to try and sooth the ache that pounded in his temple. Shaking his head to clear it, he looked around at the room, frowning when he didn't recognize it. While his memory was hazy, the last thing he remembered was being in the Headmaster's office.

Strange.

Standing up, he turned in a circle slowly, taking in the room. It was a private office of some sort, round and completely covered in bookshelves. His frown deepened when he realized that there was no door that he could see. The floor under his feet was lavishly carpeted with a giant Persian rug complete with a blue, red and tan floral design.

Suddenly, another tremor ran through the castle, nearly knocking him off his feet. Dashing over to the window, he stared at the chaos below him. Figures that he recognized as dark-clad Death Eaters were engaging teachers and a few other people he didn't know, probably Aurors, and several of the older students. He easily picked out the Weasley red hair from the crowd, a bit surprised that his ex-best friend would really have the guts to fight in a real battle. A ways away from the battle, a few Death Eaters were firing spells at the walls of the castle itself, trying to fight against its magical defenses.

Hands shaking, Harry pushed himself away from the window and started to feel around the bookshelves, trying to find a way off. He snarled as he pulled the books from their shelves, not getting any closer to his goal. When each book was on the floor, all of the candles ripped from their holders on the walls, and the room became a righteous mess, he let out a scream of annoyance.

"Fucking bastard!"

He knew the Headmaster had to be behind this. There was no alternative. The manipulative old man had messed with him for the last time.

Pulling his wand out from its hidden holster under his robes, he held it high and without saying a thing, called forth his magic. It rippled out around him like a sea, crashing against the walls. Books floated in the tides of magic, bobbing uneasily upwards towards the ceiling. Harry closed his eyes, concentrating.

There was a soft click and he smirked triumphantly. Turning, he flicked his wand towards one of the blank expanses of wall, directing all of his rage at it. He opened his eyes in time to see the hidden door crumble.

Rushing out into the Headmaster's Office, he dashed through the open door and down the stairs. His footsteps echoed in the empty halls, not that he could really hear them over the roar of battle from beyond the walls. Coming to the Grand Staircase, he leapt down it, skipping four to five steps at a time. Skidding to a stop at the bottom, he found the front doors closed. He paused for a moment, his hands shaking.

"Potter!"

He turned to see McGonagall limp up behind him. Her head and right arm were wrapped in white bandages and her left hand seemed mangled. Somehow, through the obvious pain, she maintained her signature disapproving stare. Harry could see Pomphrey scrambling about behind her, taking care of others that had fallen in battle.

"What are you doing here? Go to Gryffindor Tower!" she barked.

"I can't do that," he replied.

"That is an order!"

Ignoring her barking and squawking, he stepped past her into the Great Hall. Pomphrey started to shout at him as well, but Harry walked straight to the center of the room, passing dozens of injured students and even a few Aurors. He glanced up at the windows high above in the wall, catching a faint glimpse of the cloud-darkened sky.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the room and whispered a few hisses. He held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for a response. A faint smile flitted across his lips as he heard stone begin to shift. He opened his eyes and glanced to his left to see a large panel of the wall begin to shift and move. McGonagall stopped right behind him, her mouth falling open in surprise.

"Edda? Are you ready?" he called out, ignoring the stares from everyone in the room

"For anything, my companion," was the reply.

Draco rushed in the direction of the Great Hall. He'd smelt Harry and he knew exactly where he was. He made it to the hall just as the front doors exploded inward and a white light blinded him. A couple of Death Eaters stepped inside the castle. Drawing his wand, Draco engaged them, snarling as his Veela rose inside.

Unfortunately, he was not strong enough to face five fully trained wizards at the same time. Five different pain spells flew at him at once and he tried to raise a shield only to find them deflected by someone else's magic entirely. Severus and Lucius came racing down the Grand Staircase, easily dispatching the unsuspecting Death Eaters.

"Draco, what are you doing here?" Lucius shouted, grabbing his son's sleeve.

"Harry is here. I came to get-"

All three men turned to look into the Great Hall as the sound of cracking, crumbling stone filled the air. McGonagall, Pomphrey and several injured people were staring up at the ceiling as a large section of it crumbled and fell inwards, smashing on the stone floor.

"What in Merlin's name was that?" Severus asked as he raised a shield to deflect a new cutting spell.

Draco raced to the broken doors, staring up at the sky. A giant snake-like creature was rising up higher and higher in altitude, its magnificent red, green and blue wings beating slowly, but strongly. The head of the creature was tipped down at bit, focusing on the battle below as its tail whipped around in the wind behind him. It started to circle, red eyes glowing in its black head. Draco could just make out a giant pink tongue slipping out from the creature's mouth to taste the air. A white light emanated from a figure that sat astride the creature's back, fading slowly.

Lucius could just make out the figure with his enhanced Veela eyesight and he gasped. He recognized that mop of black hair and the pale skin. The usually wild hair had grown longer and tamed slightly.

"It's a Quetzalcoatl!" he heard Hagrid shout from somewhere amidst the battle.

_A Quetzalcoatl? _

"That's Edda, Father," Draco said proudly from beside him. "Did you know that there was a Basalisk in the Chamber of Secrets? Well, neither did Harry and he killed it at the end of second year. In fifth year, after Weasley abandoned him, he went down there after finding the ritual of the Quetzalcoatl."

"And he used the Basalisk's body to create a Quetzalcoatl?" Lucius asked in awe.

"Yep, that's why Edda is so big," Draco said. "My mate has his brilliant moments, he does."

"I'd say," Severus smirked from behind them. "He not only killed a Basalisk, but he brought it back as the rarest and most powerful creature in the entire Wizarding World."

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Harry swiped a few strands of long black hair out of his eyes as he focused on the battle below. Despite the horrible scene below, he felt strangely elated. He felt freer, different from how he normally did. His eyesight was shaper, his hearing better. Even his sense of taste seemed to have improved. As he ran his fingers through his hair, he could feel that a few large hunks had braided themselves. Others were decorated with beads and feathers, each as colorful as Edda's wings that beat on either side of him.

He glanced at the giant snake below him and he smiled. It was his first time seeing Edda really fly. He'd been able to get some practice due to the vaulted ceiling of the Chamber of Secrets, but even then, the nearly fifty foot snake had found himself cramped.

Patting the black scales in front of him, Harry hissed, "What do you say to showing them what we can do?"

The snake below him snickered. "It would be my pleasure, my companion."

Just as Edda was about to open his jaws, a loud whinny drew both his and Harry's attention away from the battle. Harry's eyes grew wide as he saw a Threstal fly up beside him, Luna astride its back. She was grinning at him, her hair flowing behind her, although she had a lot of the same braids that Harry had. Black beads were strung through some of the long strands, a sharp contrast to her nearly white hair. The black Threstal whinnied and snorted as it kept pace with Edda. Her eyes, usually so blue, were even more so now. Perhaps that was from the ring of black that surrounded the iris.

"How's it feel to be yourself, Stryder brother?" Luna called out to him.

"You're a-"

"Stryder elf?" Luna laughed, her voice as clear as he'd ever heard it. She pulled back a few strands of hair to reveal her pointed ear. "You have them too, Harry!"

Reaching back, Harry grabbed his own ear. He traced the curved point with his finger, jerking away in surprise. Luna giggled and glanced down at the ground below.

"Looks like another elf brother has joined us. He was under a constraint too you know, just like you were, Harry. You'll be very glad to see each other."

"Who-"

Harry looked down to where Luna was pointing. A giant dog, as black as Luna's Threstal, was racing towards the battle, a dark-haired man clinging to its back. The man lifted his head and his eyes met with Harry's.

"Never thought you'd see your godfather again did you?" Luna giggled beside him.


	16. Chapter 15: Flight

**A/N: I know this one is short, but it's full of drama. The next chapter will be a lot of fun, but I didn't feel that the content for it went really well with this one. If anything, this chapter should have been included in the last one, but oh well. REMINDER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 15: Flight

Hissing, Harry drove Edda into a dive. They sailed downward, quickly pulling out of the dive to skim over the surface of the black lake. Sirius and the huge dog he rode both glanced over their shoulders at the approaching Quetzalcoatl and his rider. The Marauder grinned wickedly, long strands of black hair whipping in his face, and urged his dog even faster. Edda quickly caught up and soared over Sirius's head, stilling his wings to cut down on the loud whistling of wind between the teenager and his godfather.

"Hey Harry! How've you been?" Sirius cackled, brushing a beaded strand of hair out of his face.

"What the hell, Siri? How did you-"

"-Survive that curse Bella threw at me? No idea," he laughed as he glanced ahead at the crowd of Death Eaters they were getting close to. "Tell you the story when we're done with these assholes?"

Edda let out a hiss of agreement and Sirius nodded in agreement. Sirius's dog barked loudly as it sped up and overtook Edda, its giant feet pounding the grass into submission. Planting its feet for a moment, the dog leapt up as high and as far as it could. The dog snarled and yapped as it came down in the center of the Death Eaters, fangs tearing at their black cloaks as Sirius sent off several spells with just his hands.

Harry's eyes widened as he watched his godfather fight. Glancing up at Luna who flew beside him on her Threstal, he motioned down to the battle below in a silent question. She grinned widely at him, giggling.

"You don't need your wand anymore, Harry. You're a Stryder now," she giggled before she urged her Threstal forward and into the battle.

Edda held back, rising higher to circle around the battlefield. Harry watched carefully as Sirius and Luna both dismounted and engaged the enemy. They fired off spells at every dark-cloaked figure around them, spells that Harry had never seen before. Even the other wizards and witches around them seemed shocked. Some of the teachers, including Flitwick, who had been fighting, pulled back to watch the two elves beat down one Death Eater after another. Sirius seemed to be having the time of his life, white magic spilling from his hands like water from a geyser. Luna was giggling freely, her blue magic practically blinding everyone around her.

Glancing down at his hands, Harry took a deep breath and focused every part of his being on his hands. He could feel the magic pulsing under his skin, through every cell and blood vessel in his body. Gritting his teeth, he shoved the magic out through the pores of his fingers. The magic that grew out it like fire was black, as dark as his hair or the scales that covered most of Edda's snake-like body.

Laughing at the irony of it all, Harry let out a yell and Edda, a hiss in reply. They dove from their position high in the sky, Harry collecting more and more of the pulsating energy in his palms, focusing specifically on his right hand, his dominant. All of his rage, all of his hate, all of his despair was pooled into that one ball of magic in his hand. He thought of every horrible thing that had ever happened in his life: the beatings, the starvation and the molestation that he was forced to encounter almost every day of his young life. After he left the Dursleys, there was the overbearing worship or the overbearing hate he received from his fellow wizards. Every rumor he'd ever heard whispered about him went through his mind in those moments as he prepared to unleash a power that no one alive, even Voldemort, had ever seen before.

Luna and Sirius both looked up at him and scrambled back to their partners, who were tearing apart black robes in whatever manner they could. The dog yelped and barked as it raced off towards the school, Luna and her Threstal not close behind.

Lifting his right hand up high, Harry let out a yell and brought it down in a swift punching motion. Edda let out a high-pitched hiss as the spear of magic rocketed towards the ground. Harry barely noticed when the giant Quetzalcoatl pulled his wings back hard, forcing them into a glide as the spear hit the ground.

The explosion was instantaneous. The moment the sharp tip of the spear hit its target, a Death Eater that would later be identified as Gregory Goyle's father, the magic changed form, shifting and morphing into a wave of pure magic that exploded outwards like a tsunami. Nearly every Death Eater in the area was engulfed in it, the magic cutting through their bodies on its way, but never injuring them physically. It disappeared within a fraction of a second, leaving the Death Eaters, the wizards, the witches, and the Stryder elves that watched breathless.

Mr. Goyle let out a scream as he seemed to collapse in on himself, doubling over as he grabbed at his stomach. Blood poured from his mouth as he dropped to his knees, pooling on the grass around him. Those around him fell within moments, all of them keening and crying in pain and suffering. One by one, they fell dead, bleeding from their mouths, their ears and almost every other opening in their bodies.

Those that lived were still, including Voldemort himself. He wheeled around to face his fallen soldiers, slit eyes wide as he took in the scene around him. Hearing the wing beats high above, he looked up at the giant snake-like creature that flew above him.

Harry was curled up against Edda's back, his face buried in the cool scales. As the Quetzalcoatl descended slowly towards the ground, he lifted his head, eyelids heavy and slit. His entire body felt numb and everything seemed to buzz and prickle as the magic in his cells replenished itself. Slowly, a warm feeling entered his heart and he placed his hand over it. He smiled to himself as Edda touched down on the grass, settling his wings around him.

Sliding down from Edda's back, Harry turned to face the few Death Eaters that remained. Voldemort was snarling at him, his ugly face contorted. Harry just smiled back, a few long strands of dark hair flying into his face.

"So Tom, should we talk or die fighting?"

Voldemort snapped out of his slightly stunned snarl, smirking at the boy. "You think that a show like that is going to stop me?"

"It wasn't really a show," Harry replied, motioning to the fallen men behind the Dark Lord. "Over half of your Death Eaters just died because I threw magic at them. I'd say that was pretty real."

"You like to show off, eh Potter?" the Dark Lord cackled.

"Maybe," Harry said, his smile growing into a large grin.

Behind him, Edda rose up and threw his wings open, hissing and spitting at the Dark Lord. Even Voldemort drew away from the Quetzalcoatl for a moment before he straightened his back and snarled.

"Come on, Potter! Duel me, you little boy!"

Glancing up at the snake behind him, Harry nodded and focused his magic on his hands. He held out his arms, spreading them as far as he can.

"Come at me, you sick motherfucker!"

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	17. Chapter 16: Into the Dark

**A/N: I know that this chapter is super short, but I felt the need to post something and I'm trying to get back into writing this story in order to finish it. This story will be finished soon, probably in the next couple of chapters. This may seem to be moving fast, but I need to do it. I have other projects I want to work on, but I hate leaving a story just hanging. It's unfair to me and to readers who spend the time reading and reviewing it. Anyway, this will be done soon, I promise.**

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Chapter 16: Into the Dark

Voldemort let out a scream and raised his wand, shouting out a killing curse. Harry quickly dodged, finding his agility enhanced with his new form. He smirked to himself and called on his magic, focusing it on his hand. Throwing a sharp blade of magic at the Dark Lord, Harry rushed him, building magic in the center of his other palm. Voldemort deflected his magic knife and replied with several curses of his own.

Around them, the battle had resumed. Luna and Sirius had jumped back into the fray, the huge dog and the threstal not far behind. Edda let out a loud hiss as he snapped his jaws around a Death Eater, crushing the man with his strong fangs and jaws. Some of the teachers, including Severus, were busy firing spell after spell at those that remained.

Harry and Voldemort danced around each other, tossing curses at each other as they dodged and jumped to avoid them. Snarling, Harry skidded to a stop and charged the other man. The Dark Lord let out a yell as he brought back his wand and snapped his wrist forward.

Ducking under his newest attack, Harry brought his hand up in a wide arch, forcing his magic out through his fingers like they were an extension of his nails. The older man shrieked as he jumped back, dodging the wild swing. Harry started circling him like a shark stalking prey, his green eyes vibrant and bright. Magic permeated into the air around him, stirring up a wind that was sharp and strong.

"What are you trying to do, Potter?" Voldemort cackled. "What's with all of the show and production?"

"It's power, Voldemort. You'd know that better than anyone else, you and your bright green killing curse," Harry replied.

The older man snorted and swung his wand. Harry heard cracking behind him and he whipped around fast enough to see a few of the trees of the Forbidden Forest loose their largest branches. Turning back to Voldemort, Harry smirked.

"See what I mean?"

Centering his power back into his right hand, Harry dashed forward just as the older man brought back his wand, a curse on his lips. The curse, one he didn't recognize, rushed towards him and he tried to dodge, but the red light managed to hit his leg, cutting through the skin.

He bit back a cry as he skidded to a stop, gritting his teeth as he centered his focus on his hand, controlling the magic. Suddenly, his knees gave out and he fell, energy leaving his body like water through a broken glass. His eyes widened and for a second, he faltered, glancing down at his legs.

"Surprised? It's a wonderful little curse, not well-known of course," Voldemort cackled as he circled around the teen. "Stops blood flow and the muscles tense up. It makes you drop like a stone, just as you demonstrated."

Harry shot him a glare as he focused on his hand, sending magic directly to his fingertips. Slowly, he stood, pushing himself up off the ground, but still crouched down. Voldemort has his back turned, saying something to a Death Eater that was close by. Growling low in his throat, Harry leapt forward, all of his energy into this one movement. He brought his hand back and swung, shoving his magic through his fingertips like they were extensions of his nails. Swinging, he felt his magic connect with something, cutting clean through.

He heard a scream and a loud thunk, but he ignored it, quickly cutting off his magic. His vision blurred and blackened, color fading in and out. He shook his head wildly, trying to clear it as his ears started ringing. Falling to his knees, he clutching his head and tried to fight down the nausea that was springing up in his stomach. Lights flashed around him, but once again, he barely saw them.

Someone grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up, carrying his small form away from the battlefield. White wings surrounded him as he was jostled and shifted, but he just squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight down the nausea. He groaned quietly as something underneath him moved, his stomach rolling uncomfortably.

"It's okay, love. Hold on for just a few more seconds. Edda, go now!"

Harry quickly blacked out, the silence and the quiet engulfing him.

He awoke to more silence, but at least now he could see. Above him was the white ceiling of the hospital wing and around him was the soft, orange light of late afternoon. Blinking, he turned his head to look around, finding someone sitting in the chair beside his bed. His new elven powers had given him perfect vision it seemed as he could see his mate clearly as he dozed, blond hair falling in his eyes.

Harry chuckled softly as his slid his hand over to Draco's knee, tapping it. The other boy jerked away, almost knocking his chair backwards in the process as it tilted back on two legs

"Merlin, Harry, what the hell?" the blond cried as he calmed down once again, his chair back on all fours.

"Sorry about that. It was just irresistible," Harry replied, shooting his mate a wide grin.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Sure it was." His happiness quickly vanished, replaced by an intense look of worry. "How do you feel?"

Harry glanced down at his body, shifting his arms and legs to catalogue any aches of pains. Finding none, he smiled up at Draco and lay back against the pillows once again.

"Pretty good considering. What happened?" he asked.

"Voldemort tried sapping all your energy. That's why you collapsed," Draco explained. "You cut his head clean off and there was blood everywhere. It was shocking really. I got to you first and carried you here on Edda's back."

"He let you do that?" Harry chuckled.

"I think that was just as shocking to everyone else as you decapitating the Dark Lord," Draco admitted.

Looking around the room, Harry noticed that it was empty.

"Where's everyone else? Where's Sirius? The professors?" he asked.

"It's been three days, Harry. Most of them are healed by now," Draco said.

"What!"

"Stay down!" Draco cried, gently pushing him back onto the bed. "You may not hurt now, but you never with these things. Madame Pomfrey doesn't want you up for a few more days."

"But Sirius-"

"Is fine. He's with my father, I believe."

Harry relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief. "Any idea how he's still alive? I thought Bellatrix killed him."

"He isn't even really sure," Draco said, "But I

Nodding, Harry sighed and closed his eyes, sudden fatigue taking over. Draco sat beside him in silence as he fell back asleep, darkness encasing him.

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	18. Chapter 17: Truth

**A/N: There we go! A much longer chapter. This story is very close to the end so keep watching for new updates! REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 17: Truth

It took several more days for Harry to gather the strength to get out of bed. Draco spent as much time with him as possible, either sitting in the chair while his mate drifted in and out of sleep. He would keep him company when he was awake and read or play chess by himself when he was asleep. Madame Pomfrey had allowed Draco to use the bed next to Harry's when he needed, although if he had ever been asked, he would have to admit that he barely slept during that week.

When Harry was finally allowed out of bed, he demanded to see his godfather. Madame Pomfrey relented, allowing Sirius to finally enter the Hospital Wing. The moment that the man and the teen saw each other, they raced forward, colliding at the center of the room. Sirius hauled Harry up into his arms, suspending him above the ground as they hugged each other tightly. The dark-haired teen chuckled a little, holding back tears.

He could feel Draco's eyes on him from the other side of the room, watching as the two elves embraced. The blond Veela was relaxed and through their newly established link, Harry could feel the prickles of joy that his mate felt. Harry grinned to himself as he and Sirius pulled away, the larger man dropping him to his feet.

"How've you been, pup?" Sirius asked, grabbing Harry's shoulders.

"You know how I've been, Sirius. You were on the battlefield with me," Harry laughed.

Rolling his eyes, the older man shook his head. "I meant since then. Madame Pomfrey kept turning me away when I came to see you. She would tell me that you were doing well, but nothing more."

"This is my first day walking," Harry admitted.

Sirius sprung into action, shoving his godson back towards his bed in a rush. As Harry took a seat and leaned up against the pillows, Sirius sat beside him, turning to face the teenager. He crossed his legs in front of him and set his hands on his knees, his face filled with worry. Harry waved him off, chuckling.

"I'm fine, Sirius, really!" he laughed.

"Are you sure because-"

"Sirius, he says that he's fine," Lucius drawled as he stepped into the Hospital Wing to stand beside his son.

Pouting, Sirius glanced over at the Malfoy patriarch. "This isn't something we can just brush off, Lucius," he snarled.

Harry reached out and grabbed his godfather's hand to pull his attention away from the Malfoys. He gave the older man a bright smile.

"I'm positive. Draco and Madame Pomfrey have taken good care of me," he said.

Sirius threw a glance at Draco, eyeing him suspiciously before he nodded.

"As much as I'm surprised to be saying this, he will make a good mate," the older Gryffindor said slowly. "Veela don't take that relationship lightly."

"Most definitely not," the two Malfoys replied instantaneously.

Sirius ignored the Malfoys, focusing completely on Harry. He squeezed his godson's hand, his dark eyes hardening with a serious mood.

"How about your… summers?"

Harry stilled, eyes widening. He tried to pull his hand from Sirius's, but the older man held on tight. The teenager began to shake slightly as tears filled his eyes. He glanced down at his lap, still struggling to get away.

"H-How?"

Reaching out, Sirius hulled Harry into his lap, wrapping his arms around the shaking teenager. Setting his chin on the thin shoulder, Sirius closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, brushing his hands up and down Harry's back.

"I smelled blood on you Harry that summer before your third year. Do you remember seeing me out in the street?"

The teenager nodded against his shoulder.

"I didn't question it, thinking you'd just cut yourself doing yard work or something, but when I came back from the Veil-" Sirius swallowed hard, trying to fight down his anger and tears "-Sniv-Severus told me about he'd seen in your mind."

"B-But wh-why did he tell you?" Harry murmured, clutching at the dark robes that his godfather wore.

"He felt that as your intended guardian, even if I legally lost that right when I went to Azkaban, I should know what was going on. He knew you wouldn't want him to have told, but he had to. Pomfrey was asking questions about scars and we were all standing there and it just came out."

Sirius gulped heavily, squeezing Harry tightly.

"I'm so sorry that you went through all of that. If I hadn't gone after Peter none of this would have happened," the older man sniffled quietly.

"Sirius," Harry replied quietly, "None of this was your fault."

Pulling away, Sirius cupped Harry's face with his hands, leaning forward to rest their foreheads against one another's. The long braid that usually was tucked over his ear fell forward, swinging slightly. Their eyes, black and green, stared at one another, exchanging silent words and emotions that neither of them could really express.

"Perhaps not," Sirius said slowly, "But I do still bare some responsibility. You wouldn't have been sent there if I hadn't gotten myself thrown in jail. You would have grown up with me as your guardian and you never would have… had those things happen to you."

Harry sniffled quietly, trying to hold back the sobs that were threatening to come up from this throat. Sirius smiled softly at him, sitting up straight to pull Harry against his chest.

"I'm here now, Harry and I'm not going anywhere," the older man murmured.

Wrapping his arms tightly around Sirius's shoulders, Harry nodded and cried into the black-clad shoulder. His whole body quivered and shook from the force of his sobs, his own shoulders jerking as he rocked his body back and forth. Sirius went along with his movements in an attempt to calm the younger man, cooing quietly in his ear.

As the sobs started to quiet and the shaking stopped, Harry slowly pulled away from his godfather, settling back to sit on his heels. Brushing away a few tears, he gave Sirius a watery smile.

"It's good to have you back, Sirius."

The older man grinned widely and nodded vigorously.

"It's quite miraculous, isn't it? I knew that my stupid cousin would never be capable of killing me," he barked, laughing.

"How did you survive? She hit you with the killing curse!" Harry asked.

"Well," Sirius began, "Somehow the Veil absorbed the killing curse instead of me. The Veil is a very mysterious and largely unresearched object so I don't know if I can really example how I'm still alive. I don't remember much from my time in it, just some flashes of light and that's it. One day, I was just suddenly spit out in the Department of Mysteries and I snuck out in my animagus form."

Harry blinked in surprise. "You don't even know?"

Sirius shook his head. "No idea, but what I do know is that when I came back, I'd already turned into an elf. I don't know if it reversed whatever was binding me from my true inheritance or if the spell broke by itself."

"So you were under a bind too?" Harry asked.

"Luna is the only one of the three of us that wasn't," Sirius growled. "Somehow, someone got to both you and me before our inheritances. How they found out we would have creatures, I don't know, but I will bet money that it wasn't on accident or by coincidence that we're both Stryder Elves."

Both Malfoys growled and glowered in the corner. Harry glanced over at them, frowning slightly. Lucius looked just as angry as Draco was, his gray eyes steely and cold with rage. Beside him, Harry heard Sirius chuckle.

"Veela really do take their mates seriously," the older man said.

"Mates?"

Grinning, Sirius nodded and pointed to himself, shrugging. "It turns out I might just be your new father-in-law's true mate."

Harry froze for a moment, his eyes widening. Then, he whipped his head around to stare at Lucius, who was smirking proudly, his back straight and regal. Turning back to his godfather, Harry let out a cry and leapt back into Sirius's arms, hugging him tightly.

"Now that's the reaction I was hoping for," Sirius laughed.

"You know what this means, right?" Harry asked excitedly.

"What does it mean, pup?"

"It means we get to be a real family!"

Sirius's pointed ears drooped a little. "We weren't before."

Laughing, Harry nodded and grabbed the front of his godfather's robes. "We were, but it'll be even more official now!"

Coming over to the bed, the two Malfoys sat down and embraced their mates. Harry snuggled into Draco's side, sighing and relaxing in his mate's arms. Lucius set his arm over Sirius's shoulder, pressing their foreheads together.

There was a loud growl from outside the door and they all looked up in time to see Madame Pomfrey come running through the door, a giant dog not far behind. It skidded across the polished floor of the Hospital Wing, trying to dig its claws into the marble for some traction as it sought to change direction. The large body collided with a table, knocking over a few potions bottles, which fell to the floor with a crash. Standing up, the dog trotted over to them, tongue rolling as it lay and curled up around the back of the bed, setting its large jaw on top of the sheets.

Sirius barked in laughter as he petted the giant dog's head, brushing back the dark fur. The dog growled softly in its throat before closing its eyes and pressing against the older Gryffindor's leg.

"Ah right," Sirius said. "Harry, meet Charon, my partner. Charon, meet Harry."

The dog let out a soft whine and opened one eye, fixing it upon Harry. It almost seemed to give an approving nod before closing its eye again.

"Where's Edda?" Harry asked.

"McGonagall has him housed in one of the classrooms on the first floor," Draco explained, finally speaking for the first time. "I bet he would have rather been here guarding you, but I finally persuaded him to wait downstairs for you."

"You're getting good at persuading him to do anything, aren't you?" Harry teased. "First, he lets you ride him, then he let you talk him into staying downstairs. What's next?"

Draco huffed. "Didn't you think I could do it?"

"Well, you are my mate so I guess by default Edda would respect you more," Harry mused, pecking Draco on the cheek.

"Charon was supposed to wait downstairs too," Sirius said, petting his partner's large head, "But I guess he's enough like me to come rushing up."

"I'm surprised that Dumbledore even let them through the door," Harry murmured.

Lucius snorted. "That old man doesn't have control over anything anymore."

"Why not?" Harry asked, fixing his future father-in-law with a surprised stare.

Lucius smugly crossed his arms over his chest and seemed to be preening with pride. "The School Governors finally got around the removing the old man for 'not protecting the school and its students to the best of his ability'. Ha! That old man is so slimy and slippery that he nearly got the Wizengamot to appeal his case. Thankfully, we managed to shut him down on that too."

Harry shifted uncomfortably on the bed, glancing down at his hands. "I- he-"

"Yes Harry?" Draco prompted.

"Before the battle, he called me up to his office. I know that I shouldn't have gone alone, but I had no other choice. We talked for a while and then he drugged me with something," he said.

Draco let out a cry of rage, practically trying to leap off the bed until Harry grabbed him around the waist and held him down.

"Wait! Let me finish!"

With a snort, Draco settled back down onto the bed, motioning for his mate to continue.

"I woke up in some secret room behind the bookcases in his office. I managed to find my way out, but I don't know what he was planning," Harry finished.

Lucius nodded, gripping Sirius's shoulder tightly to keep his mate in place. "Some Aurors went through his office when he was taken off the premises."

"Aurors?" Harry asked, surprised.

"He was deemed a danger to the school so he had to leave all of his possessions behind. The Aurors came through to look through everything and they found a few very interesting things concerning Stryder elves." With a sigh, Lucius continued, "Specifically, they found that he'd ripped a page out of one of the school books. It was the recipe for a binding spell, one that limits creature inheritances."

Harry and Sirius gasped, glancing at each other.

"You mean that-"

"Dumbledore was the one to place the binding spells on you? Yes. When Madame Pomfrey was looking over your injuries, Harry, she found traces of his magical signature and the potion that is used to ground the spells in a person's magical core, preventing their inheritance. That is why Draco couldn't sense you when he should have. Thankfully, your magic was greater than even Dumbledore anticipated and it managed to leak out at times."

"That's how Draco found me?" Harry asked.

"Yes. As for Sirius, no one has figured out how the spell came undone," Lucius said. "We don't know nearly enough about the Veil to answer that."

Harry folded his hands in his lap, fidgeting. Draco hugged him tightly, pulling the smaller Gryffindor against his chest.

"So Dumbledore was the cause of it all?" he concluded.

Silence filled the room as no one answered. The two pairs of mates cuddled and comforted each other, trying to calm their rage and their sadness. Beside Sirius, Charon fell into a comfortable sleep.

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	19. Chapter 18: Fate

**A/N: The fate of Dumbledore and the Dursleys will finally be discussed. I know that everyone has been anxious about this, but don't worry. We shall see some justice! REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 18: Fate

Harry fidgeted as he waited outside the courtroom. He stared at the closed door, tempted to go over and open it himself, but he knew that it was sealed from the inside. Dropping his gaze back to his lap, he played with the thin band that sat on his left ring finger. The band was simple and made of shining gold that shimmered in the light that filtered in through the windows of the courthouse. Three small stones were set into the band, sinking gently into the gold, shining green, red, and green again.

He sighed softly, drawing the attention of the blond beside him. Reaching out, Draco took his mate's hand and squeezed it. He shot the smaller, dark-haired man a comforting smile.

"They'll be convicted. Father is positive of it," the Slytherin said.

"But what if-"

"No doubts are necessary at this point, Harry. You agreed to bring the charges against them all without doubts. There is no reason to worry now," the blond replied.

Harry nodded as he shifted closer to his mate and snuggled into his side. Draco lifted his arm and wrapped it over Harry's thin shoulders, pulling the dark head of hair against his shoulder. His blue eyes stared down at the smaller man before they moved up to look at the man standing on the other side of the hallway.

Severus was dressed in his signature black robes, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl decorating his face. People that passed by show him wary glances, but the dark man ignored them all. His black eyes were focused on the wall just over Draco's head.

"I'm proud of you," Draco continued.

Glancing up at his mate, Harry frowned.

"For what?" he asked.

"You told the Wizengamot exactly what they did to you, all of them. Usually, you'd rather not tell anyone, let alone a court of some of the most powerful witches and wizards in England," the blond chuckled.

The smaller teenager flushed and blushed deeply. "I was just telling the truth."

"Yeah, but it took Uncle Severus delving into your memories for you to finally admit it out loud the first time," Draco argued.

Slowly, Harry nodded in agreement. He shivered to think about those things. He hated to tell anyone about what they'd done to him, but he knew it had to be done. Those secrets couldn't be kept in the dark anymore, no matter how much he wanted them to. He was just glad that the court had let him leave after his testimony. It would have been hell having to sit there while they all stared at him from the

Suddenly, the door flew open and Harry shot up out of his seat. The man who led the charge out of the courtroom was short and portly, his stomach bulging under the black robes that he wore. His hair was thinning and receding so that only a few wisps of blond remained on his head. Thin-wired glasses were perched on his nose, magnifying his round, beetle-like eyes. His cheeks were round and his face had a kindly shape to it. He was grinning widely as he walked over to Harry and his mate.

The short man embraced the dark-haired teenager, hugging him tightly. He patted Harry violently on the back and chuckled.

"You're safe now kid. They all received Azkaban for life. You're free," the man said.

Harry froze, almost unable to believe what the man had told him. His eyes widened as he stared down at the portly man. He felt Draco hug him tightly as soon as the man had released him, but he didn't have the energy to raise his arms and return the hug.

"I-It's over?" he asked, his voice shaking.

The man nodded vigorously as Severus stepped over to them, scowling at the reporters that were trying to swarm out of the courtroom. Slowly, Harry began to smile, hiding his grin of glee behind one of his hands. Draco laughed clearly as the smaller teenager turned into him and gripped the front of his dress robes, shaking with excitement.

"Told you so, didn't I?" the blond sneered playfully.

Harry nodded silently against his chest, clenching his teeth to keep from letting out an exclamation of pure joy.

"Thank you so much for your help, Mr. Overstone," Draco said as his mate clutched at him.

"No problem, Mr. Malfoy. Your father and I have been friends for years and the Malfoy family has always been fair to me. I owe you all a service, especially one as great as this one," the short man replied with a smile.

Glancing towards the door, Draco's silver eyes narrowed as he took in the crowd that was surging towards them from the courtroom. Many of them were reporters and people who had come to see the spectacle of a trial concerning the Boy-Who-Lived. Severus was trying to keep them back, but they just kept coming. The reporters were shouting questions and demanding answers of Harry, whom Draco knew would not want to answer them.

Tapping his mate on the shoulder, Draco drew back and murmured, "We should go, lion. They're going to swamp us if we're not careful."

With a nod, Harry grabbed Draco's hand and dragged him towards the nearest Floo Severus was right behind them, threatening to throw curses at the crowd if they came too close. They seemed to not hear him, focusing completely on Harry and Draco as they ran. Grabbing a handful of powder, Harry tossed it into the fireplace and stepped in, Draco following not far behind.

At the same time, they shouted, "Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

They disappeared in an explosion of green fire before they were hurtling through the connection. Harry squeezed his eyes closed and gripped Draco's hand as they traveled, waiting to feel solid ground under his feet. The moment that his feet touched the floor, he stumbled, managing to keep himself on his feet only with the help of Draco.

"You are not a fan of any sort of wizarding transportation, are you, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall laughed as her two students stepped out from the fireplace in her office.

Harry sighed and nodded, brushing some of the remaining powder from his robes. He could feel Draco grinning wickedly behind him so he rolled his eyes and pointedly ignored his mate.

"Tea?" the older witch offered as Harry sunk into a seat on the near side of her desk.

"Yes please," he said as Draco took the seat beside him.

Not a moment later, the Floo roared to life again and Severus stormed out, his dark eyes narrowed at Harry and Draco.

"You couldn't have waited, could you?" he snarled, stomping over to them and practically throwing himself into a third chair, this one beside McGonagall.

"No," Draco replied curtly, taking the cup of tea offered to him by the Transfiguration professor.

Harry snickered as he took his own cup of tea and sipped it, the hot liquid calming his frazzled emotions. He sunk into the chair, drinking slowly, but generously. Within five minutes, he needed more. Around him, the other three discussed the case, the trial, and what was to come next. Harry tuned them out, having already discussed with Draco his plans for the next few years.

He was going to be moving in with the Malfoy family and he and Draco would officially bond as soon as they had graduated. Harry wasn't willing to wait any longer on this. While he wasn't ready to jump into bed with his mate at a moment's notice, he knew that he wanted to stay with his mate and spend the rest of his life with him. They were mates, perfect matches for each other. They would argue in the future, but it wouldn't be a wonderful future without that.

Several minutes later, the Floo came alive once again and Lucius and Sirius stepped out, arm in arm. Sirius, upon seeing his godson, let go of his mate and bounded over, wrapping his arms around the small Gryffindor's shoulders. He bounced up and down behind Harry's chair, his fancy robes swaying as he moved.

"They're gone! They're gone! See, Harry? I told you that we would win. None of the other members of the Wizengamot even tried to vote innocence," he chanted as Lucius strode over, his cane tapping lightly on the stone floor as he walked.

The blond smirked at his mate and shook his head. "Sirius, love, calm down and give the poor boy some room. You're going to choke him if you're not careful."

Sirius pouted, but let go of his godson. Rolling his eyes at his blond mate, he took his wand out of his pocket and shot a quiet spell at the door, watching as they flew open. Edda hissed as he slipped into the room, his gray eyes glittering. He slid over to his elven partner and curled up next to his chair, resting his large nostrils beside Harry's leg.

The dark-haired teenager laughed and petted his partner's head as Charon barked and skidded across the stone floor to stop beside Sirius. Lucius accepted a cup of tea as his mate began to play with his gigantic dog, chasing him around the empty classroom beyond the door. The four men and one woman sat in silence, deep in thought. Edda hissed and curled up tightly against Harry's leg, drifting off to sleep now that he knew his partner was safe.

School had ended for the summer only the day before and most of the castle had been cleaned of any evidence of the students. The seventh years had graduated and were off to pursue their careers in their field of choice. Harry had said good-bye to Hermione, Neville, Luna, and the others on the train platform yesterday morning, promising to write when the trial was over.

The last days of the school year had been full of craziness. Voldemort was dead alongside most of his Death Eaters. Those that remained were either captured or being hunted by the Aurors. Draco's mother –as Lucius refused to admit that he had ever married her now that he had his mate- had refused to go down without a fight when the Aurors surrounded her in Diagon Alley. She had shot curses everywhere, trying to keep them away, but had been backed into a corner near Knockturn Alley. A well-placed cutting hex to the neck had ended her life.

Draco and Lucius had never been happier.

There had been some casualties on their side as well, Colin Creevy, Astoria Greengrass, and Ginny Weasley among them. The days that followed had been a mixture of mourning and excitement. The most evil wizard in England was dead, but at such a cost.

"So Albus is in Azkaban for life," McGonagall finally sighed, "Good riddance, I'd say. The man may have been wise, but he was reckless, especially when it came to Harry. I can't believe I trusted him to leave you with those horrid muggles!"

Harry smiled and nodded. "I understand why you did though. He had the wool pulled over all of our eyes, even Severus, even mine and I was the one stuck in that house!"

"I am just glad that they're both going with him," Draco snarled, breaking his signature Malfoy mask. "They don't even deserve to live! How could they even consider themselves to be Harry's family?"

"They didn't," Harry replied, taking his mate's hand.

Draco snorted. "Even if they didn't, that didn't give them the right to hurt you like they did, especially that fat lard Dursley."

Blushing lightly, Harry nodded and squeezed Draco's hand. "It's over now. They're all going to Azkaban and will never see the light of day again. Can't we just forget and move on?"

"What they did to you is not something you can just forget, Harry," Severus said, taking a sip from his teacup.

"I didn't mean in that way. I just don't want all of that to ruin the rest of my life. Everything is going so well right now," the Gryffindor argued.

The adults and his mate nodded in agreement and understanding. Sensing his partner's distress, Edda opened one eye and gazed up at him curiously. Harry petted the Quetzalcoatl's large head, scratching the scales comfortingly. The giant gray eye closed again as the serpent dropped back into sleep.

"Do you know what your cousin is going to do?" Lucius asked, deciding to switch topics. "I don't think I saw him at the trial."

"I got a letter from him yesterday," Harry said. "He didn't want to come and see his parents convicted. As much as he hated them, they are his parents still."

"He is welcome at Malfoy Manor whenever he wishes," Lucius replied.

Harry shot his future father-in-law a bright smile, knowing just how much of a sacrifice it was for the blond patriarch to say that. Lucius still had his reservations about muggles, especially after what had happened to his son's mate. However, he knew of Dudley's role in keeping Harry alive during those hot summer months and he felt it the right courtesy to extend the invitation. Lucius thought of himself as a pureblood through and through, despite his Veela inheritance.

"I'll be sure to tell him," Harry said.

Suddenly, the doors at the far end of the classroom were flung open and a familiar figure stormed into the room. Sirius and Charon stopped their affectionate romp, the giant dog jumping in front of his elven counterpart and growling. Edda, sensing the danger, instantly awoke and rose up, hissing loudly. Draco, Lucius, McGonagall, and Severus all yanked their wands from their pockets while Harry and Sirius silently focused their magic into their hands. Harry's green eyes narrowed and the beaded braids that were strung throughout his long hair started to rise from the body of hair as the figure pulled the hood of its robe back.

Bellatrix sneered at the group, her wand in hand as she faced them. Her hair was frazzled and wild, eyes dark with an insanity that none of them had seen before. Her clothes were in ruins, probably due to hexes and curses from Aurors or anyone who'd seen her.

"Aw, look who it is! My traitorous brother-in-law, his son, my bloodtraitor cousin, the dungeon bat and ickle Potter!" she cackled as she lifted up her wand and began to caress it. "Who wants to die first?"

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	20. Chapter 19

**A/N: We're nearing the end, but we're not quite there yet. There's a bit more drama to get through. Besides, there is Bellatrix to get through! What's going to happen there? Find out! REMINDER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 19

"You couldn't have just stayed away and died in some hell hole somewhere, could you? Oh no! You had to come back and haunt us," Sirius snarled.

"I have to finish my master's work," Bellatrix cackled, brandishing her wand.

"Why? Old Snakeface-"

"Who said I was talking about that insane piece of shit Dark Lord?" she interrupted, her face contorting into an ugly sneer. "I abandoned him years ago for a much better master."

Draco and Harry glanced at each other, frowning in confusion. When they turned back to Bellatrix, she was smirking, one hand set on her hip. Her wild hair seemed to rise as she let out another wicked cackle.

"You really don't know, do you? My master certainly was clever, oh yes he was! He even tricked the little Boy-Who-Lived and my annoying nephew! Not even the dog could sniff out his lies and tricks!"

Severus eyed the somewhat insane witch with caution, calming his raging mind. He had so many questions, but he needed to be careful. Bellatrix had always been unhinged, but especially so after her stint in Azkaban. Even if she had abandoned the Dark, she was still a threat. She was unpredictable and wild, her magic largely untamed. If she got too angry, it could explode at any moment.

"Bell-"

"Do you want to know my master's name, little Sevvy?" she giggled. "Do you? Do you? Do you? I could tell you riddles, I could tell you rhymes, but you'd need to make some guesses to figure out my crimes! Ask me many, ask me few, if you really want to know who! Who is my master? Who is my lord? Who is the one who told me to kill you all!"

A shiver ran up Harry's spine as she chanted and skipped from foot to foot like an excited house elf, her curled hair flying in all different directions. Why anyone would use her as a supporter was beyond him. She was clearly insane and probably as unstable as his uncle was. He shuddered to think of the man that he'd lived with for the past fifteen years of his life. If it weren't for his muggle status and her being a witch, his uncle and Bellatrix probably would have gotten along splendidly.

"There's no reason for games, Bellatrix. Just tell us who sent you," Lucius said calmly, his voice dropping into the signature Malfoy drawl.

"Oh come on, beloved brother-in-law, why are you being so mean to me?" Bellatrix whined, pouting. "You could at least offer me some tea."

"I don't offer tea to people who are trying to kill us," McGonagall growled from behind them, her angular face set in a firm look of anger.

Bellatrix gasped and set her hand against her cheek, gaping at the professor. "Oh my. You need to learn your manners, Professor. There's no reason to be so unclouth."

"I have no reason to be respectful to you, Bellatrix. Manners are for people who earn them," the older woman spat back.

Bellatrix smiled and cackled again, nodding vigorously. "Alright, alright. I'll go along with that. I'll play by your rules!"

Suddenly, she flicked her wrist, shooting a light blue hex in their direction. Harry threw up a shield, watching as the spell rebounded and flew back in Bellatrix's direction. She stepped to the side, watching as the magic soared past her shoulder and hit the wall. There was a loud rumble as the spell destroyed several of the stone blocks of the wall and cracked several more. She giggled into her hand.

"Such fun this will be, such fun," she murmured to herself as she raised her wand again.

A barrage of spells flew towards them, shining red, blue, and yellow, falling like comets to earth. Harry threw up his shield one more time, the green magic flaring as each spell barraged against it. His hands began to burn from the meeting spells, his fingers heating and his palms sweating. He gritted his teeth as Bellatrix kept firing, her spells growing and becoming more frequent and more powerful as she lost control.

"Harry, stop it! We can take her out!" Sirus shouted over the noise of exploding spells, cracking rock, and falling stone.

"No way!" Harry replied, gritting his teeth. "She's not getting that chance again!"

"What chance?" Draco shouted.

With a yell, the small Gryffindor pushed forward with all of his might, forcing all of the collected magic as well as his own back at the enemy. There was an explosion of white light that filled the room with infinite space, turning the stone classroom into a field of white, pulsating light. It covered everything, even his own arms and body, blinding him to even his own form. The roaring of the wild, vibrant magic was so loud that it barely registered in his ears. All he could hear was Bellatrix's cackling and chanting.

"Do you want to know my master's name? Do you? Do you? Do you? I could tell you riddles, I could tell you rhymes, but you'd need to make some guesses to figure out my crimes! Ask me many, ask me few, if you really want to know who! Who is my master? Who is my lord? Who is the one who told me to kill you all!"

Suddenly, the white light died, snuffed out like the flame of a candle and replaced with the black ink of darkness. Harry blinked and frowned, feeling his eyebrows furrow as he glanced down. He couldn't see anything, the darkness eating everything. Raising his hand, he waved it in front of his face. Nothing.

Silence filled the air around him. Nothing moved in the dark shadows that seemed to cover the entire world or, if it did, he certainly didn't see it. Cautiously, he took a step forward. Not even the sound of his soles hitting stone greeted him. He took another step and then another, holding his hands out in front of him.

Everything was gone. The whole world was gone. Where was he? Where did everyone go? Where was Lucius, Sirius, McGonagall, and Severus? Where was Bellatrix? Where was Draco?

Something grabbed onto his ankle and he yelped, jumping back. He found feel sharp nails digging through the fabric of his dress pants and into his skin, seeking to draw blood. As the hand dragged his leg forward, he tripped back and fell, his back landing hard on whatever surface was under him. Kicking wildly, he fought to get away from the strong, monster-like grasp that was clutched around his ankle.

Images of bloody fists and bats filled his mind as he kicked and fought and cried, tears streaming down his face. The darkness around him became the canvas of his nightmares, flashing moments from that summer and the four summers before it. Memories of his first ten years filtered onto the darkness like a movie onto a projector screen, filling his vision.

Finally, he landed a good, strong kick to something and the grip released him. Scrambling back, he crawled across the floor on his elbows, surging over onto his front to stumble up. Just as he was about to stand, the clawed hand closed around his ankle again and he fell, this time landing harshly on his knees.

He screamed as he was dragged backwards, tears coming in torrents now. He knew what was coming. It was what always came in dark, scary places. He could already feel the sharp sting of a whip and the pain of a cutting knife racing across his back. Then would come the ripping feeling as he was entered.

Suddenly, it all stopped and the clenched hand was ripped away from him. He froze, completely unsure what to do. He'd never been saved before. Slowly, the darkness before his eyes began to fade and he blinked several times as the world bled back into color. First, the floor appeared under his hands, the stones cracked and dented. Next came the walls or at least what was left of them. Whole chunks had been destroyed, including the entire wall that separated the classroom from the corridor outside. By the time his entire sight had been restored, his eyes were wide with horror.

Bellatrix lay a few yards away from him, face down in the stone with Draco on top of her. The blond Veela was hissing and spitting with anger as he grasped her hands behind her back, pushing down on her spine with his knees to keep her in place. Lucius and Severus were on either side of him, helping to restrain the screaming witch.

Bellatrix herself was a mess. A large part of her hair has been burned away, leaving half of her scalp a mess of bloody scars and burns. Part of her face had been melted and blood was pooling from her mouth as she screamed. Her clothing was ripped to shreds, barely covering her intimate areas. Her shoes were gone and her wand lay beside her, snapped cleanly in half.

"Harry!"

He jerked as his arm was grabbed and he was dragged back away from the crazed witch. McGonagall and Sirius kneeled on either side of him, gripping his arms tightly as they tried to calm him down.

"It's okay, Harry. Everything's alright," Sirius murmured, running his fingers through his godson's long black hair.

McGonagall was dabbing at Harry's cheeks with

McGonagall was dabbing at Harry's cheeks with a handkerchief that she had summoned from her desk, wiping away the torrent of tears. Her hands shook a little as she tried to clean his face and her eyes were blown wide with fear.

Slowly, the small teenager began to calm down, regaining his breath. His body was still shivering and shaking, but slowly, his heart started to slow to its normal rhythm. The words that Sirius was whispering in his ears he barely heard, but they helped all the same. His green eyes never strayed from Bellatrix, even when Aurors flooed into the classroom via the partially ruined fireplace in McGonagall's office, binding the burned witch as she was taken away.

"Do you want to know who sent me to kill you, you little shit? Your beloved Headmaster! That's right! I work for that bloody fucker Dumbledore!" she shrieked from the fireplace as two Aurors and a breath of green flame carried her away.

Everyone that was left in the room was frozen, all staring in the direction of the cleared fireplace. No one knew what to do. Dumbledore? She'd worked for the Headmaster? He'd wanted to kill Harry? Was it because of his testimony at the trial? But he shouldn't have been able to get in contact with her. He was shipped straight to Azkaban. He would be in his cell by now.

"But why?" Harry murmured.

The blond grabbed his mate and pulled the smaller teenager into his chest, practically curling around the tiny form. Harry gripped his robes tightly, eyes blown wide. The Veela cooed in his ear as he shook from the shock of it all.

Dumbledore had admitted to delaying Harry's inheritance as a Stryder elf, a crime worthy of one hundred years in Azkaban and sealed magic in the Wizarding World. He'd admitted to knowing about Harry's abuse at the hands of the Dursleys. He'd even admitted to requesting that the abuse be stepped up after fourth year, the summer that Harry had first been raped by his uncle. The Aurors had found evidence hidden in Vernon's office along with the chains that had been used to bind Harry to the floor and keep him in place while he serviced clients. But to actually send someone to kill the Boy-Who-Lived? Unthinkable.

Harry buried himself into Draco's chest, his shoulders shaking. He sobbed, but no tears came out. He didn't have anymore to spare. They'd all been used during the years of torture at Dumbledore's request. All that was left was the dry well that should have been filled with unshed tears. Instead, it had run dry.

This was just one betrayal to many.

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